


Blood Sugar Sex Magic

by Basingstoke



Series: Unfinished WIP clearinghouse [13]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, Intersex Loki, M/M, Other, Shapeshifter Loki, Transgender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki escapes his punishment, goes to Earth, and has a lot of sex. And wine. And magic. And babies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Going to be Jossed by Thor 2, so I might as well post. This is epic drawerfic. Thanks to ZetaTauri for all his help, but he takes no blame for any of this nonsense.

*

His punishment is this: He is sent to Nidavellir, there to mine for minerals alongside the Dwarves, but with a spell placed on him so that every day seems to him to last a year. There he will serve until Odin All-father decides he is reformed.

It could be worse.

*

It is terrible. He is taken directly to the mine, there to labor, bound and gagged, for a year without sleeping or eating. His bodily needs intensify over the year as they would over the course of a day. This means he spends months needing a toilet, his stomach gnawing with hunger. The dwarves around him move in slow motion. His hands continue to dig whether he wills them to or not. He is not even digging up anything interesting; this is a red crystal mine.

At the end of the yearlong day, he is terribly glad to see Eitri Ivaldason. Even gladder when the dwarf escorts him to the retiring room and he can empty his bursting bladder for the first time in months.

Is this Odin's plan, to make him so preoccupied with his body that he forgets the wrongs that have been done to him? It shall not work. He will rearrange his organs. The shackles prevent him from working magic externally, but his magic runs through his very veins, and nothing can prevent him from manipulating himself.

Eitri's home is small, like all dwarf homes, but well-crafted, as befits a master maker. Eitri removes his gag and serves him food with his own hands. "Thank you, Son of Ivaldi. I am thankful for your hospitality. Others would leave me to sleep in the mine, I am sure," Loki says.

"You are a prince," Eitri says. "Even a chastened prince must be well-treated."

"I will remember this courtesy."

He eats, he sleeps, and then he engages in another yearlong day.

Eitri does not replace the gag. He is more comfortable this time and more bored. His hands chip away at the rock walls like a clockwork toy. He is silent with his thoughts.

He thinks first of slights and vengeance and insults and murdering Thor. Over the course of the year, though, he begins to think of music, which he has not heard in a very long time. He begins to wish that he had something to look at other than gray stone.

When Eitri retrieves him at nightfall, he opens his mouth to speak and coughs instead. His throat is unused to speech. "I have many useful skills," Loki says. "Please let me do something else."

"This is useful work. Robots are not gentle enough with the crystals."

"Please," Loki repeats.

"Forbidden by your father. You're not trustworthy," Eitri says. His voice is not unkind.

Eitri's eyes are a rich golden-brown and his skin and hair are the same shade of dark earth brown. His voice is low and calm and soothing. He gives Loki a plate of meat with brightly colored vegetables alongside and it is such a wonderful sight that Loki can only stare for a moment.

But then he eats, he sleeps, and he returns to the mine for another year.

He sees Odin's face in the rock. _No, Loki._ When victory over Jotunheim was the dream of Asgard for a thousand years. When frost giants were the villains of every story and the monster behind every rock. Thor was wrong, Thor was banished for invading so very badly, nearly getting Fandral killed, and risking retaliation from an enraged enemy, but Loki's plan had been perfect! A bloodless victory.

Loki always does wrong in Odin's eyes. He is a mighty sorcerer, just as Odin is, but Odin values Thor's prosaic hammer-work far more highly. Why? What does Thor have?

Apart from the ability to make friends.

Apart from an engaging smile and a laugh that draws everyone in, even Loki.

Apart from a generous heart.

Loki killed him. He watched it through the eyes of the Destroyer. Thor sacrificed himself for his mortal companions, which restored his honor and worth, and he was restored to life by Mjolnir, and he still loves Loki.

He is a villain. He has done wrong, very wrong, and his tears make charcoal splashes on the rock.

His eyes are dry by the time Eitri retrieves him, though. He is quiet at dinner.

That night he dreams of Thor.

Then the fourth year, and he recalls his teaching and begins to reason aloud. "Thor is still not a good king," he tells the rock face. "I was not wrong. I was not given the opportunity to prove my worth."

The rock face yields a shower of red conducting crystals. "Yes, you see?" Loki says. "Thor..."

He gives the rock wall an extensive list of Thor's many misdeeds. It takes him three year-long days. It takes him ten years in all to tire of lambasting Thor.

"Are you speaking to the wall, my lord?" Eitri asks.

"As a boy I learned the best way to construct an argument is to speak it aloud. Thoughts are muddled but speech requires precision."

Eitri nods. "Just so."

The next ten years, he tries to work out his next move. He will escape, and then attack a different part of Midgard? He learned during his catastrophic trip that the land of America which Thor has adopted does not have a king, but England does, and England is a powerful realm, the mother of America. He has visited England recently, only some forty years ago, and a few centuries ago he raided the gentry of England with Fandral for some twenty years in the forest called Nottingham. He knows the people of England well.

So, he conquers England. Its aged monarch will bend the knee readily. Then what does he do? Midgard, even the whole of Midgard, doesn't have the strength to challenge Asgard; he will have only enough leverage to prevent Asgard from attacking him and returning him to this useless bondage.

Having gained a throne, he will?

What will he do?

Build Midgard, he decides. Short-cut it into the modern age. Midgard's grasp of science is sorely lacking. He will implant the manipulating particles into the smartest of them and teach them how to interact with the world without the clumsy tools Midgard is still tethered to. He had given a brief explanation of the particles to Barton and Selvig, just enough to orient them to their task, and Barton said the Midgardian name for the particles was _midichlorians_. Names are the first step to understanding. This is a good sign.

He will teach them. He will be the founder of a shining new land, the envy of all. Odin will look upon him with admiration for his achievements.

He is smiling when Eitri retrieves him. "You are in high spirits, my lord," Eitri says.

"I am considering plans for the future."

"No violence against Nidavellir, I hope."

"No. I promised you I would remember your courtesy, my lord."

He eats, he sleeps, and he returns to the mine.

He should marry again, once he has built his shining civilization. No, he should marry first, and have children, and teach his children along with the smartest humans. Then his children can lead the humans into the future.

And...more fundamentally, he will be able to raise his children to adulthood on Midgard. His younger children were all taken from him, one by one. Sleipnir, his oldest, was raised in the stable as an ordinary horse.

"But he is not just a horse," Loki tells the wall. "I carried him in my body and fed him from my breasts. He is half Aesir, a mighty warrior, but he is known only as Odin's freakish steed. Why did I let him go so easily?

"Ah, because I was ashamed, wall. I was ashamed of lying with a horse, I was ashamed of bearing a child, I was ashamed to seem female. I was too afraid to stand up in Father's court with an eight-legged son. Ha. At least he wasn't a frost giant. I wonder if Father has admitted that to Thor even yet?"

His hands continue to work. "But he is not my father, wall. He is not my father."

Not his father at all. "He is not my father," he murmurs.

Odin has no hold on him.

It is a dizzying thought. For once he is thankful for the mindless work.

He finds that he misses Sleipnir. He has always been loathe to call the horse his son, but the creature knows him and loves him. He bugles happily and charges across the field to nuzzle Loki's chest. Loki in his turn admires his son's muscles and marvels at his swiftness. Sleipnir is well taken care of, but Loki thinks the horse will miss him.

He does not like to think of his other two sons. The anger swells within him too quickly and too harshly. He does not dare think of Angrboda's anguished face as her sons are declared monsters, too dangerous to remain free.

He failed his wife and children. A prince and he cannot save his own sons.

Or daughter.

He saw his daughter's grasping hand coming toward him when he lay pulverized by the green giant. Only a quick gasp of will brought life into his body and saved him from her judgement. He must think of what to say to her when they meet again.

At this point he has been working for sixty-one years. He has become indifferent to his body and its workings. The idea of ruling anyone makes him tired. He has had enough of princedom. He was rejected from the house of Laufey and never really part of the house of Odin, so why should he bear the burdens of power? He decides he should have more sex and drink more wine instead. 

He realizes, that night after dinner, that he has not engaged in sex since before Thor's coronation. His cock roars to life. He flings the fur cover off, exposing his naked body to the chill night air, and the prickle of the air feels like the hands of a lover. He writhes, rubbing his thighs across each other, stroking his hands up to his chest and down to his belly.

The last person to touch him so intimately was the green monster, he thinks, and he laughs under his breath. The giant seized both his thighs in one hand. He strokes his thighs in that selfsame spot, where the massive finger-bruises had taken a week to fade, and then pulls his thighs up, imagining him offering himself to the giant instead. He opens his thighs and rolls his hips against the linen. Massive legs between his own, he thinks. He would be afraid and excited. A penis the size of a tree, which would require him to rearrange his anatomy to accommodate it.

He shifts his shape, giving himself a vulva, vagina, womb, shoving his stones up out of the way. His penis stands erect above these new features. The giant cock would batter into him all the way up to the cervix, he thinks. He strokes his hands over his chest, his flat chest, and thinks he would like to have breasts; he swells them beneath his palms. The shackles against his tender skin heighten the fantasy.

He rolls over and spreads his legs. Open, available to be taken. He thinks of Sleipnir's father now, stolid Svadilfari, entranced by Loki's scent. He remembers the forelegs over his back, then the hot breath on his ears, then the huge erection prodding at his rump. The horse was a simple creature but deliciously strong. He knew what to do when Loki was not sure of himself.

Loki takes his cock in hand and rolls onto his side. He thrust two fingers inside his passage and thinks of his dear wife, Angrboda, her large breasts, her wide hips, her smooth arms, her fine fat thighs. He misses her; she has been dead for several hundred years. He imagines her hand inside him and her body riding him. Her soft skin. Her firm hands. His own hands are terribly calloused from the mining.

He gasps, staring up at the ceiling, as he climaxes. His skin crawls with life. He brings his hand to his mouth to suck the seed from his fingers and all he can smell is sex.

Sex builds magical energy. If not for the shackles, he would have enough energy to take himself to Midgard now. Since the shackles contain his power, it fizzes under his skin like a hot spring. 

He sleeps.

In the morning, he returns to the mine. His small breasts rub against his shirt. His vulva is tight and hidden in his trousers. He thinks about sex for several months. He thinks about femininity and masculinity. 

Sex and magic. They go hand in hand. He should have constant sex and craft legendary new spells when he is released.

Odin has not yet seen him. Is he waiting until one hundred years have passed? That seems like him. Loki has no desire to wait for his favor; indeed, no desire for his favor.

But Eitri...

"Have you changed your shape, my lord?" Eitri asks.

"I have." Eitri knows that shape-shifting is intrinsic magic, so there is no harm in admitting it. "I grow tired of my male body. I have been female in the past and wish to return to that."

"I see. My lady?"

"As you like," Loki says.

"Shall I fetch you female garments?"

Loki smiles as a thought occurs to him. "Yes, please."

Eitri leaves and returns with a tunic and leggings of nearly identical cut, but of jeweled purple rather than black. A more feminine hue. "Thank you," Loki says.

He eats, he sleeps, and he returns to the mine.

Eitri treats him slightly differently in female clothes. His looks linger. Sex and magic, Loki thinks, and he begins to flirt.

It takes only two nights before he lures Eitri into bed. The dwarf's body is solid and luscious, broad and powerful. Loki howls his pleasure to the walls.

"Your father will not like this," Eitri says afterwards.

"He is not my father," Loki says.

They fuck every night. The men of Nidavellir are no more chaste than those of Asgard. Every morning, Loki returns to the mine, there to wait and ache for another year.

Until a baby catches. 

He feels it as a flare of alien mind within him. Loki sits up, pressing his hand to his womb. His magic is swirling within him to feed the new life. "My lady?" Eitri says.

"My lord, I am with child," Loki says. He didn't intend this--at least not consciously. This would not be the first time his magic has twisted in his hands.

Eitri doesn't question how he knows. Instead, he sits up and asks, "Shall I call the healer for you?" Asking if he wants to abort.

"No. I want it. Our child would be magnificent, my lord." He looks at the dwarf's strong body and thinks of the dwarf's quick mind. "But what will happen when I go to the mine tomorrow? Will I bear the child in the dust?"

Eitri strokes his thigh. "No. Your body ages only one day while you are in the mine."

Loki lies down with him and Eitri nestles up to his breast. "Motherhood has not been kind to me in the past. Perhaps you do not want to be the father to my monster child," Loki says.

"I have two children," Eitri says. "Both fine girls, both full dwarfs. I am curious to see how my seed blends with the fertile earth of Jotunheim."

Loki caresses his belly. He imagines a seed nestling in the folds of his body, taking root and blooming. "I love all my children." Even the snake. Even the savage wolf. He loves them. "I want to nurture your seed and watch it grow."

Eitri kisses his hand. Loki still goes to the mine in the morning.

The spark inside him sleeps while Loki mines. The pregnancy does not progress. It is terribly strange to know there is a child within him without feeling it grow.

That evening, Eitri puts his hands over the shackles and their hold on Loki lifts. Loki instantly pulls an illusion over them to hide them from Heimdall's eyes. "I should not do this, but I am," Eitri says.

Loki leans down and kisses him hard. "My child's father is a compassionate man."

Eitri gives him a bag of gold. "Leave this realm. I will answer to Odin. He has no power over me."

"My child's father is a bold man." Loki kisses him again.

"Make my child known to me when the time is right."

"My child's father is Eitri Ivaldason," Loki breathes.

He departs. He is free. He served eighty-four years in the mine. 

*


	2. Chapter 2

He hides on Midgard. They have high enough technology that he can receive proper prenatal care but low enough that they will not detect he is an alien. He makes jewelry from Eitri's gold and sells it for Midgard money, which is simple. He finds someone to make him a false identification, which is difficult. 

He settles in a territory of England called Canada in a city many thousands of miles from Thor. The cool climate and lush surrounding forest remind him of Vanaheim. 

"I am a mutant," he tells the friendly, understanding nurse. "I think you will find my anatomy surprising." 

"Everything is surprising these days," she says in reply. "We're mutant-friendly." 

He retained his in-between shape, both male and female, breasts and cock and vulva all in one body. It feels right. Calling himself a mutant also seems correct. He has never been at home anywhere; he is always twisted slightly out of shape. 

"I just have a few questions," the friendly nurse says. 

"Of course." 

"Is this your first pregnancy?" 

"No. I am the mother of one son and father to three other children."

"Father meaning someone else carried the babies?" Loki nods, a smile playing about his lips at her coolness. "Should I mark female, male, or other for the gender on your record?" she asks. 

Loki laughs. "I see you will not be shocked." 

She shakes her head and smiles. 

"Mark male, if you please. As a general rule...I am male." The statement feels more consequential than it is. 

"All right. Eris Wolf, Mister."

"If my gender were neuter, what would you say?" 

"M," she replies without hesitation. 

Loki glances at her name tag. Olivia. He likes this human. But he is full of baby hormones, as the humans say. He is not in his right mind. 

"Name of the father?"

"Leave it blank, please," Loki says. 

She nods. "Approximate date of conception?" 

"Four months ago, I think." He lost track of some time between worlds. In addition, humans carry babies for nine months, while dwarves carry babies for six months and frost giants carry babies for fourteen months. Loki has no idea how long his pregnancy will last. 

"Have you received any previous prenatal care?" 

"No." 

"Generally in good health?" 

"Yes." 

"Any questions for me?" 

"I want to see my baby's face," Loki says. 

Olivia smiles. "We'll do an ultrasound." 

*

Olivia is a nurse practitioner, she tells him, and this means that she examines him. She moves his penis to access his vagina with a polite "excuse me." 

"Healthy on visual examination. Now manual examination, are you still all right?" 

"Quite all right," Loki says. She gently probes his vagina with her fingers. "Your manners are exceptional." 

"Thank you," she says. "Okay, all done. I'll get you a drape and we can start the ultrasound." 

Loki smiles. "I have never seen a child of mine before birth. I am most intrigued." 

"Never?"

"My father...put his faith in God," Loki says. It's something like truth. Olivia nods and looks somber. "My other children were born under his control. I no longer have access. But this child is mine." 

This is truth. Odin has no hold on him. 

*

"So there's the head...and we have ears, eyes, nose, mouth, and we have a little hand," the ultrasound technician says. 

Loki is transfixed. There is his child as it rests within his womb. 

"And another hand...and...Eris, I think I'm seeing three hands," Olivia says. 

"Checking...there's the other head. Twins."

"Definitely two heartbeats," the tech says. "Strong heartbeats. Very healthy babies." 

"Get hard copy of those faces, Sarah," Olivia says. 

"Okay, here's on the left..." The tech holds the wand steady. Loki watches the face of his child waver and breathe on the screen. She presses a button and the machine prints a picture. "And on the right." 

"Looks like you're about five months along," Olivia says. "I'm putting down an estimate of 20 weeks." 

Loki holds pictures of his infants in his hands. Twins, like himself and Thor. No. Like he thought himself and Thor to be. 

He hopes they are similar, unlike himself and Thor. He does not want a golden child and a shadow child. He does not know how to tell a child not to be like him. 

"Eris," Olivia says, catching his attention. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm also a twin. It...was not easy."

"It's going to be okay." She gives him two papers. GLBTQ Parenting Group, one reads. Mutant Mothering, reads the other. "You're not alone." 

*

He lives in a (tiny for a prince, massive for a prisoner) set of rooms on Davie Street. The rainbow flags that rank the avenue called to him when he was searching for a home. He has learned here what GLBTQ stands for. He applies the label "transgender" to himself tentatively. He is not quite sure if it fits. 

There is no such concept as "gay" in Asgard. Men are warriors (except for Loki), women are wives (except for Sif), and who else you fuck does not change that. Warriors marry wives and produce little warriors and wives, except for Loki, neither warrior nor wife, who produces monsters. 

Here, men may marry men and women may marry women and there are very few warriors and monsters have the name of "mutant." Loki thought he might rule these people. He cannot begin to comprehend them. 

"Ready to order?" the human servant asks. 

Loki is leaning back in his chair with his index fingers pressed to his temples. "I would have roast suckling pig stuffed with apples and bitter herbs, a loaf of sour black bread, and sweetest honey wine," he says. 

When he opens his eyes, the servant is smiling. "Pregnancy cravings, huh?"

"I apologize," Loki says, for he is learning human manners. "I have not read the menu." 

"We have a Vietnamese-inspired pulled pork sandwich and lychee white tea. I bet I can find some honey to go with that." 

Loki beams at her. "Yes, please. You are wise."

"Just got the ultrasound?" she asks. She indicates the pictures he left on the table. 

"Twins," Loki says. "I was considering...names. The future."

"They're beautiful. I'll get you that sandwich." 

She does not charge him for the extra honey. Loki places his hands over the children in his womb, one on the right, one on the left, and looks at the blurry pictures. 

He shall not pit them against each other. He shall not hold up treasures that only one can win. He will make them allies of each other, not enemies. 

He only needs to work out how. 

*

He sits in the window and combs his hair. It's growing long and lustrous with his pregnancy. 

In Odin's court, it would be long past time to cut his hair. He is supposed to be a warrior, ready for battle, and if hair is long enough to tangle in the enemy's fingers it is too long. 

Now he does not have to be a warrior. He leans into the wind. It is spring and the air is sweet. There is a bird's nest forming in the tree outside his window. 

A winged shadow flits past and a sparrow lands on the branch. She looks at him. "What do you want, little bird?" Loki asks her. 

She hops up and down the branch and does not answer. Loki begins to clean his comb, pulling the few tangled hairs from the teeth, and then she makes her move, darting in to steal the hair from his hands. 

Loki catches her in mid-air in his open hand. She flutters in his palm for a moment before perching on his thumb and regarding him with round black eyes. "Are you sorcerer or mother, little bird? Or both, like me? You could weave a great working, either way." Hair, nails, all the parts of the body hold power and must be carefully disposed of. The bird tilts her head at him and Loki tilts his head in return. 

"Snow white!" calls a man from the alley below. Loki jumps but does not close his hand. Who is this, naming him as a creature of snow? 

The man below is drunk in the middle of the day. He leans on the fence behind the building. "Looking for prince charming, snow white?" he asks. 

Oh. _Oh._ The man is naming him a fair maiden by referencing the myths of his people. By his beard, it's been too long since he listened to the flirtations of drunken men. "I found my prince," Loki answers. He opens his hand and lets the sparrow fly away. "I carry his child." He touches his belly. 

The man nods slowly and broadly. "That's how it really ends," he says. "The prince doesn't kiss her, he fucks her. She has twins and they crawl up her body and suck out the poison needle while they're looking for her tits. That's how she defeats the evil witch." 

"That is how all evils are vanquished. Sex and love are the enemies of malice," Loki says. 

"Are you living happily ever after, Snow White?" 

"Of course not. My twins have not yet sucked out the needle." Loki considers asking the man up. He's not bad looking. 

But the man's face twists and he leans over, vomiting into the alley. Loki has had quite enough of wine-sick warriors. He stands and closes the window. 

The sparrow perches on her tree and watches the vomiting man. 

*


	3. Chapter 3

His belly grows and grows and grows. He must constantly have new clothing as he expands out of one item after another. He does not dare use his magic to alter his existing clothing, which is maddening, but he would be instantly detected in this mageless place. 

Humans do not have their clothing made but rather buy it off dazzling racks in shops. At first he thinks this is convenient, but then he discovers the problem of finding the correct size among the options. How is he meant to know if he is a six or an eight or a twenty? He holds a simple sleeveless tunic to his body and snarls. 

"You would look great in that," a woman says. Her brown-black hair bears a blond streak in the front. She is also pregnant, her belly as large as his. 

"I cannot determine my size. What arcane formulae translate a body into a number?" 

She laughs. "Well, you're a tall drink of water. Try the fourteen. I always just grab a bunch and try them on to see what fits, especially with the little monster on the way." 

Loki startles, but she is touching her own belly. She is referring to her child as a little monster. "Yes," Loki says. "Yes, of course." 

"Black is your color," she says. Her eyes flit over his body. He nods his thanks and retreats to the fitting rooms. 

Too late, he realizes he has passed up the opportunity to have sex. Damn! It has been too long since he was approached by a woman; in Asgard, he courts women and is courted by men. "You have confused my mind," he lectures the children in his womb, but they are too young to listen. 

*

Loki sees the stripe-haired woman again at the doctor's office. She looks at him in the black sleeveless tunic and leggings and says, "I told you you'd look good." 

"Black has ever been my color," Loki says. 

"I'm Parva and you're interesting," she says.

"Am I?" 

"You're wearing motorcycle boots, you're reading a book in Chinese, and your accent is like baby tigers on velvet. I'd be hitting on you if I could see my feet."

Loki frowns. "Do I truly look so odd?" The tough boots are practical, but he must try to avoid notice.

"Girl, it is hot. What's your name?" Parva pushes herself up from her chair and awkwardly reseats herself next to Loki. Their arms press together. 

"I thought you were not hitting on me," Loki says. 

"Sometimes I just can't help myself."

"What gall to flirt with a woman great with child," Loki says, looking into her eyes. They are so close his breath reflects from her cheek. 

"I'm chock full of gall and spleen and stomach. Busting out with organs."

Loki smiles. "Furious organs fire the blood. Is this why you wear this ring, that you may be led?" He touches the ring in her nose with his smallest finger. 

"Girl, you can put my head anywhere you want," Parva says. Loki grins with all his teeth. 

"Eris?" Olivia calls. Loki stands, holding Parva's gaze until he must turn. 

"Eris," Parva says behind him. She rolls the name over her tongue as if savoring it.

Olivia smiles and brings him back to the room. "How are the weightlifters?" 

"Hale," Loki says. 

When he returns to the waiting room, Parva is gone. Loki sits and reads for a while. 

_Where do correct ideas come from? Do they drop from the skies? No. Are they innate in the mind? No. They come from social practice, and from it alone.... It is man's social being that determines his thinking._

"Eris," Parva says. 

Loki closes his book. "Well timed. Would you like to join me for pulled pork sandwiches? It is my custom after checkups." 

Parva grins. 

*

They make out on the couch in Parva's dwelling. Parva's child kicks fretfully against Loki's hand, which makes them both laugh. "I will not be box-blocked by a minus one year old, kid," Parva says. Her hand is active on Loki's bare breast. Her mouth is hungry on Loki's lips. 

Loki sighs. "I must warn you, I suppose, that I have a surprise in my pants." The internet tells him disclosure is the correct protocol. 

"Ooh. Is it a dick?" 

"It is," Loki says. 

"Spectacular. I love trans--wait, how are you pregnant? If it's a pillow I am not amused." She gives him a skeptical, narrow-eyed look. 

"Look and see," Loki says. He stands and shoves the tunic down over the mound of his belly onto the floor. Below, he wears sleek black leggings. When he removes them, his cock stands half-proud. 

"Oh my god so hot," Parva says.

Loki simply smiles, but he is flattered. She is licking her lips at the sight of him. Maidens of Asgard are generally more subtle. 

"Come here and I will give you an awful blow job. I'm a dyke, my blow job skills are zilch, but that is so hot. Hairy _legs_ and big old boots and those tits--" Parva pulls her own dress over her head. Her body is ripe and full.

"I am male," Loki says. "My body contains all male and female parts, but I consider my essential self is male." 

"You are wrecking my dyke cred," Parva says. But she gestures him in, and places her mouth upon him with no skill but much enthusiasm. 

*

In the morning, Loki wakes up to Parva cursing. "Left your damn boots on! I have bruises all over my shins, what the hell."

Loki grins and kisses her hand. He happily removes his boots. 

Breakfast is strawberries and bagels in bed. They are both naked, wrestling with pillows to support their enormous bellies. It is summer and the heat weighs heavily on the skin. "What's the story with the tattoos?" Parva asks, tracing her fingers over the blue lines in Loki's skin. 

"Merely decorative." Most of them are magical spells, but he does not want to go into that. "This is a hippogriff. The head, here on my chest--" His finger traces the head between his breasts. "The fore-claws on my arms, you see?" He strokes the angular claws just below his elbows. "The hooves on my shins below the knee. The tail along my back." The tail forms an intricate knot up his spine. The marks are useful 

"Why a hippogriff?" 

"They're smart and fast and strange, made of pieces and parts."

"Oh." 

"Little monster was a drunken decision," Parva says, her stomach and her hand resting on Loki's thigh. "I woke up the next morning, my friend woke up, we looked at the turkey baster and wondered what we had been thinking. But I love her. I feel her wiggling and yeah, she's my baby. I love her." 

"I...cannot speak of the father of my child." 

"You don't have to. If it's like that, you don't have to," Parva says. 

He plays with her hair. It's curly, a texture unusual in Asgard, and it reminds him that he is in a foreign land. He cannot imagine what she is thinking. "I am not young," Loki says. 

"Fine by me," Parva says. 

"My life has been long and frequently painful." 

Parva nods. "My life is short and I'm full of scars. But the other option is boring." 

"Other option?"

"Giving up. Dying." Parva nestles up to his thigh. 

"I did not consider that as an option," Loki says. 

"Yeah. That's the spirit," Parva says. Her hand creeps higher on his leg. "So, I like you." 

"You said that."

"Sorry to be boring." Her thumb strokes across the lips of Loki's vagina. 

"But I enjoy hearing it." Few enough people say it. 

"Want to do this again?" 

"So many times," Loki says. He spreads his legs and Parva rolls over heavily between his thighs. 

She growls. Loki grins. 

*

Once home, he curls up on his side and stares at the wall. After eighty-four years in the mine, he finds gray walls soothing. 

The boys wrestle in his belly. He remembers wrestling with his golden twin. Thor pinned him easily, even when he handicapped himself, until Loki learned the great magic of shapeshifting and turned into a snake in his arms. After that, Loki won every match. 

He wonders what his children will be. He wonders if he can love them if their skin is blue and their eyes burn red. 

But he can feel their little lives inside him and he thinks he can. 

*

He's not sure if he wants a wife (not since Angrboda died of heartbreak, rightfully blaming him) but he knows he needs help with the twins, with Midgard in general, with stability. 

He courts Parva with gifts and food. She courts him with clothes and sex. He finds out her name is short for Parvati, which takes him aback. He has met her namesake. "Named for the goddess," he says. 

"Mm-hm. But so are you. Eris, the goddess of chaos." 

"Yes." He has met his namesake as well. They got on famously. She nearly convinced him to abandon Asgard and move to Olympus with her. 

"One more and we're a pantheon," Parva says. "Maybe I'll name my baby Athena." 

Loki rubs her back. Pregnancy taxes her far more than him. 

"How are you glowing so damn hard? Why aren't you ever tired?" Parva asks. 

"I tire," Loki says. He leans over and kisses her shoulder. 

"Totally unfair." She sighs. "So who's your baby daddy? Is he out of the picture?" 

"He is a friend. He is out of the picture, for complex reasons. He lives very far away. Nearly as far as you can get from here." The furthest would be Niflheim, he thinks, but Nidavellir is a very long way away. 

"Back in England?" 

"England?" 

"You're English, right?" 

"I don't wish to speak of my origins." 

She turns onto her elbow and frowns at him. "Why?" 

"I..." Does he dare to tell the truth? How much of the truth? "I have been cast out of my home. I prefer not to dwell on it." 

Parva regards him. "A lot of queer kids get kicked out." 

"It goes somewhat beyond that. My father...I do not wish to name him in my house. This is the first home I have created for myself." 

"Okay. Oof." She winces and turns back onto her side. "Baby is kicking." 

Loki touches her belly, feeling the small, vigorous motion. "Baby is strong." 

"It helps to talk about it," Parva says. "It doesn't seem as bad once you put it into words. Believe me, I know, my parents are freak shows." 

Loki rubs her back. "Is this your first child?" 

"You know it is. Do you see any other kids running around?" 

"This is my second pregnancy. My father will not let me see my first."

"Shit." 

"He must be looking for me. I changed my name and the way I look but I don't know if it's enough. And..." He rocks and looks at the title screen of the DVD. "I do not know what sort of parent to be. I do not want to be him. He pitted me against my brother to see who was worthy of succeeding him. I think he must have taken me to strengthen my brother through competition. I knew I was second best, even before I found out I was not really part of the family. My children should never feel that. But...I do not know how to do it," Loki says. 

"Come here," Parva says. Loki slides out of the chair and sits on the floor beside her. She strokes his head. "My parents sucked too. My dad is a racist douchebag who is freaked out by me not being white. I have no idea what his deal is--he married an Indian woman, and yet. My birth name sure as hell is not Parvati. So we're doing the same thing, okay?" 

"Not reassuring." 

"Fuck off. Okay, you see that shelf of baby books? Read them. They're all about how to be a good mom. So you read them and memorize them like I did and we will figure it out together, okay?" 

Loki looks up at her. 

"Unless you're going to take off and we'll both be clueless alone," Parva says. 

"You make an excellent point," Loki says. 

He stands and pulls the books out of the shelf. There are quite a few of them, but he has a few months left. 

"At least we get to start from the beginning when they're easy. Only thing I could do to fuck her up right now is drop her," Parva says. 

*


	4. Chapter 4

She moves in shortly before her child is due. She calls his rooms palatial. Humans have such small ambitions. It is pleasant being admired, though. 

When her child is born, Loki is the second to hold her. She is very small to his eyes. Only seven pounds. When he translates the units in his head, he realizes she's only three-quarters the size of Hela at her birth. 

It stirs a great tenderness in him. He lays the baby on Parva's breast and strokes Parva's hair. "I will be as her mother," he says. 

"Excellent. I want to be dad, then." She grins up at him. "You be mom and I'll be dad. You cook and clean and get up in the middle of the night to feed her. I'll collect my maternity leave checks and read the newspaper while you change diapers." 

"I do not like this division of labor." 

"Too bad. No takesy-backsies." She giggles, her voice fragile with exhaustion, and she head-butts him. "Oh my god. Baby." 

"Yes. That is a baby." 

"I made a baby." 

"I am making two." Loki smirks slightly. 

"Shut up. I'm glowing and shit." 

Loki kisses her. "You are most beautiful," he says. 

*

"Two boys," Olivia says. "I mean, two babies with penises."

"'Boy' is an acceptable shorthand," Loki says. He takes the pictures of his handsome babies, now seven months old. They seem to be maturing at a roughly human rate. They look Aesir. 

"They're almost certainly mutants, since you are, but I don't see any external signs. Usually the full mutation is triggered at puberty," Olivia says. 

At home, Parva lies exhausted on the couch with newborn Una sleeping on her chest. Loki stoops to kiss them both. "Mmf," Parva grunts. 

Neither of them can sleep through Una's midnight cries, but Loki needs far less sleep than Parva does. He settles in the rocking chair beside them. 

"We are going to fucking die when the twins are born, girlie boy," Parva murmurs. "We will have three newborns and we will up and die." 

"We will live. We simply will not sleep." 

"Hit play, I need brain candy." 

Loki starts the DVD player. The title of the movie is _The Wicker Man_. Loki hasn't seen it before. It begins as a police drama, but then veers into a musical exploring the region's religion. Loki smirks as the locals entrap the policeman in his own hubris. 

At the end, Parva seems asleep, but then Una snuffles and roots and Parva stirs to nurse her. 

 

*

Una is three months old when Loki goes into labor. "Time to go to the hospital?" Parva asks.

Loki breathes into the contractions. If he goes to the hospital, he is trapped, they will have his babies in their hands. If something goes wrong at home, though, he will have to use his magic, and he will be discovered. Heimdall can't see him as one human among humans but will most definitely see a burst of magical energy. "Yes, please call a taxi," he says. 

He is being sensible. But--he doesn't want his children to be born, he realizes. He wants to keep them safe inside him. Nothing can harm them in his body. He leans on the counter and tries not to cry. 

The midwife, Olivia, is ready at the hospital. The birth plan is in place. Parva and Una accompany him.

He walks up and down as his body prepares to shove his boys into the world. He doesn't want them out, he wants them safe. "Hey. What is that face?" Parva says. She cups his cheeks and looks up at him. 

She is so small and fragile. If Heimdall sees him and the Warriors Three come, she will be so much empty flesh on the end of Hogun's mace. "I'm not ready," Loki says. "It's not safe to bear them. I need to stop."

"Whoa. Calm down." She hits the call button. 

He remembers Sleipnir's birth, which was so fast and overwhelming he scarcely knew what was happening. He remembers Angrboda's shock as the puppy Fenrir was presented to her, her grief at the seemingly dead Hela, her agony as the serpent Jormungandr was pulled hand over hand from her womb. He does not know what he will do if his children are blue. He does not know. He grimaces as pain ripples through his belly. 

"Xanax. Something. Eris is freaking out," Parva tells the midwife. 

"Okay, Eris, lie down and let your body work. You're in labor, you can't stop the babies coming, so you have to help them or you're going to hurt them," Olivia says. 

He could stop the babies coming if he used his magic. He can lock them up safe in his womb. They will sleep like they did in Eitri's mine. 

"Hey! Girlie boy. Snap out of it." Parva pulls his hair. He blinks and looks at her. "Talk to me." 

"They're not safe outside me," Loki says. 

"They're too big to stay inside you. They're ready, mum, and they don't care if you're ready," Olivia says. "You can only help them or hurt them. I know you don't want to hurt them." 

Loki closes his eyes. Yes. The inevitable. He knows how to face this. 

He cannot stop picturing his father reaching between his legs and snatching his children into the midnight sky, but he knows how to behave in the face of overwhelming odds. "Yes. Yes, I understand. The twins are coming." 

He lets himself be positioned. He feels the flow of magic through his veins and gathers his strength to face whatever comes. 

And his sons are born. First the one on the right, then forty minutes later, the one on the left. They are both alive. Their skins are dark brown like Eitri's but their eyes are clear green like his own. Their faces are human. They have straight black hair and four arms each.

"I'm not sure how I missed the arms," Olivia says. "Four point two one kilograms. I'm color coding the ankle bracelet so we can tell them apart. Red is the older one. And the younger one, four point two three. That's big for a singleton, Eris, and phenomenal for twins." 

"That's only one kilogram less than Una right now. Those are giant babies, girlie boy." 

Loki cradles them to his chest. He can feel the milk filling his breasts. "They're as large as I am. Henry and Hillary," he says. He has been thinking about this. He would have named them differently if they were blue. "Henry is the older."

Parva smiles. She holds up Una. "Here are your brothers, baby girl," she says. 

Henry and Hillary are not their real names. Later, when he is not observed, he sprinkles them with water and mouths their true names into their soft skulls. Vali Lokason. Narfi Lokason. If he never tells anyone their names, they will be safe from magic. Magic requires the true name to work. 

They are as safe as they can be. 

*


	5. Chapter 5

Loki isn't sure if he washes during the next month. He knows he sleeps occasionally because the boys wake him rooting at his breasts. Their eight hands clasp his fingers as he holds them.

He feeds Una sometimes and Parva feeds the boys. Their children will be milk-siblings. When gold flecks sparkle in Una's eyes, he knows she has taken in his magic. 

He begins to look male again as his stomach shrinks. His human shape is androgynous and the slightest hint will tip him over the line between male and female. "You're less hot when you're not knocked up, girlie boy," Parva tells him, and he bites her thighs until she screams with laughter. 

*

"Look at my beautiful brown boy!" Parva says. "Look at him, look at him!" She nibbles on Vali's stomach as he giggles with delight. 

"You always say that. Why?" Loki asks. He pauses in the middle of changing Narfi's diaper, letting Narfi kick his naked legs in the air. 

Parva raises her eyebrows at him. "Because he's brown. All our kids are brown. It's tough." 

"Tougher than being a mutant?" 

"I don't know. I've never been a mutant. But I've always been brown, and it's great, but it's hard, and you really have no idea, paleface." She shakes her head.

"I suppose not." Parva and Una are both middling tan. Parva says she is mixed white and Indian, which means very little to Loki except that those are varieties of human. Skin color doesn't mean much in Asgard as long as the color isn't blue. Heimdall and Hogun are brown; Thor and Volstagg are pink. Bor, Odin's father, is brown-skinned in the paintings. 

"But that's okay. They have me to teach them brown pride. Yeah, brown pride!" Parva holds up one of Vali's tiny fists. Vali blinks at her. "Four arms good, two arms bad!" 

"Four arms inconvenient," Loki says. He finishes diapering Narfi and dresses him in a clean onesie. He had to rip the side seams out of all the shirts to accommodate the extra arms. 

They take a walk around the block, both of them carrying the babies in wraps, and stop in for the first pork sandwich since Una was born. The waitress Lizzie beams at them. "My favorite couple! Welcome back!" 

"Thank you, darling," Parva says. "This is Una and that's Henry on the right and Hillary on the left."

Vali looks around with his vague green eyes. Loki covers the heads of both boys with his hands. "Henry especially liked the food here. He kicked me until I slaked his savage hunger," Loki says. 

"What good taste you have, baby!" Lizzie touches his cheek and Vali struggles to focus. Narfi sucks his fingers and looks at his brother. "Oh wow, four arms!" 

"My children and I are all mutants. My mutation is simply not as obvious," Loki says.

"Making their clothes fit has to be annoying. But, you know, there's a tailor down the street, I bet she could hem that for you. I think we have her card." 

"Splendid," Loki says. She goes to find it.

In Odin's court, he spent an hour each morning dressing his hair and skin and wore four outfits a day (breakfast, day, dinner, and moonlight, and yet one more if he entertained anyone in bed). Now, his hair has not been cut since before his fall from the Bifrost and it falls in tangles around his shoulders. He is wearing what he put on this morning--the motorcycle boots Parva so enjoys, soft leggings, a thigh-length shirt, and a hoodie--and he realizes, now that he looks, that he has a milk stain on his wrist cuff and the boots are scuffed and dirty. He does not look the part of a prince. 

"Hey, hot mama," Parva says. She strokes his thigh beneath the table. "What are you doing tonight?" 

"Oh, a spot of reading, I think." He smiles at her. 

"Anything interesting?" 

"Your freckles in Braille." 

"You minx," she says. She leans in and kisses him. Her hand wanders up his thigh to the crease of his hip. 

He is no longer a prince. Somehow, this moment is what solidifies that for him. He has abdicated his throne. Even before his children were born, Loki was despised for his effeminacy. Never as bright and masculine as Thor, no good with hammer or sword. Good with magic and poison and knives, all female weapons. 

He's embracing his effeminacy now. Reveling in it, truly. He finds it suits him. He feels free. 

*

He is not prepared for the first time someone looks at his child and screams. 

He is at the food market with Vali alone in the carrying wrap, Una and Narfi sleeping at home, Parva washing their clothes. "This is a mango," Loki tells Vali. "Parva has promised us great delights if we bring some home."

Vali gurgles in response. 

"True. You may be too young to partake." Vali is three months old and larger than six-month-old Una, but still far from old enough for solid food. "We shall feed you on finest mead instead. How does that sound?" 

Vali sticks his tongue out. Loki places three mangos in the buggy. 

"Oh!" A human woman descends. "Are you helping mum shop?" she asks Vali. She looks up at Loki and smiles. "Such a little cutie! Boy or girl?" 

"Boy," Loki says. He is not quite sure what to make of this woman. It is like flirtation, he thinks, but the woman is flirting with his child? What is the end game? He is reminded of the grooms of Odin's stable descending on Sleipnir, puzzling over his eight legs and then admiring his speed. 

"Six months old? What's his name?" 

"Three months old," Loki says. 

"Big boy!" She reaches to touch Vali's cheek and Vali waves his arms.

She screams. Loki jumps back, covering Vali with both hands. "Monster! Monster!" the woman gasps. 

Oh, and this is all too familiar. Even beautiful Hela made the court of Asgard shrink back. "He is an infant, you foolish cow," Loki snarls. 

"What the hell?" another shopper says. "Are you okay?" Loki thinks he is talking to the woman, but no, the young woman is looking at him. 

"Except that my child has four arms, I am fine." Vali clings to his shirt and whimpers. Loki cups his hand around Vali's head and flattens the other hand against his son's back. 

"They shouldn't be allowed out!" 

A man cuts in. "Out of where? The house? Jail? He's a baby." 

Loki, both arms crossed over Vali, leaves the store. He isn't running. Barely. He does not want to appear in the newspaper; he does not want further comment, and _why will they not let his children grow in peace, why this loathing, when Vali has done literally nothing_ \--

Someone touches his shoulder. Loki swings around and raises a hand glowing with power. 

"Whoa, bub, settle down." It is the man from the market. Loki lowers his hand and dissipates the power back into the earth. That was careless of him. "You okay?" 

"I was not expecting to be attacked at the food market, but I'll live," Loki says. 

"Yeah." The man shifts from foot to foot, then nods and leaves him alone. 

Loki returns home. Parva is folding laundry, the babies playing with soft toys on the floor beside her. Loki places Vali beside his brother and kisses Parva on the cheek. "What happened to groceries?" Parva asks. 

Loki sighs. He embraces her. "I am very tired of people looking at me and screaming in terror," he says, and he rests his cheek on the top of her head. 

"Fuck." 

"Another shopper named Henry a monster."

"Bitch!"

"People have insulted my children since my eldest was born, but Henry and Hillary are not nearly as monstrous as their siblings. I had hoped they would occasion less comment." 

"It's not our job to school those ignorant asses. Our kids are jewels. Anyone who can't see that--" 

"They can all rot in the fires," Loki says. 

"Yeah. Straight to hell." She rubs his back. "We really need food, though, girlie boy." 

The one thing he misses about court life is the servants. 

*


	6. Chapter 6

Loki is in the middle of feeding Narfi when Dr. Strange walks through the world wall into his living room. Parva shouts and sets all three babies crying. 

Strange does not attack, but stands and waits while Loki and Parva soothe the infants. "What do you want?" Loki asks. 

"Assistance from the greatest mage on Earth. The walls of the Great Nexus have been weakened; will you help me strengthen them?" The man is very still and shining with power. 

"Why should I help?" Loki asks. Narfi snuffles against his neck. Vali frowns at Strange. 

"For a truce with Asgard and the United States."

"You can arrange that?" 

"I can." Strange is as impassive as Odin. 

"Swear to me, before two witnesses of my blood and two witnesses of Midgard, that I will no longer be hunted if I render this assistance to you." 

Strange raises his hand and an eye briefly flares on his palm. "I swear." 

Loki looks to Parva. "Will you come? I may yet need a witness." 

"Hell yes," she says. She picks up both diaper bags.

They walk through the pathway to Strange's mansion. Fury is there. He is impassive when he sees Loki. "Well," he says. "Loki. Nice to see you again."

"You authorized the truce, then?" 

"I did. I was wondering why you weren't kicking up any dust, but I guess my question is answered by all those babies you're carrying. As long as you don't attack us, we won't mess with you. In exchange for helping us with Dormammu, that is." 

Loki smiles. "All right." He spits on his right hand and holds it out to Fury. 

Fury raises his eyebrow. 

"A Midgard custom to seal the word," Loki says. 

"A disgusting custom."

Loki scowls. "Do you refuse to shake my hand? Do you dishonor me?" 

"You bet your ass I do, Loki Lie-smith." 

Loki laughs and wipes his hand on his leg. "You've learned."

"Fast," Fury says. He sits, so Loki and Parva sit as well. 

They are silent for a moment. "I must prepare," Strange says. "Please make yourself at home. I will only need you at the Grand Nexus." He disappears into another room. 

"So, hi, my name is Parvati Collins, but you probably already knew that, freaky leather trench coat man," Parva says. Loki adores her. 

"Aged 22, worked in a Starbucks before you met Loki. Yeah, we checked you out. Nicholas Fury. Head of SHIELD." 

"How's the helicarrier?" Loki asks. 

"Fixed. Hulk says hi, by the way." 

Loki laughs, tossing his head back on the sofa. 

"I was reasonably sure you were male," Fury says. 

"And I am. I am a man who has given birth to three children." 

"If that's a problem, I have some trans activists who would be happy to make your acquaintance," Parva says. 

"No problem. Just curious." 

They are silent for another moment. 

"Is Thor on Earth?" Loki asks. 

"He is. He returned when you escaped. Thought you might come here." Fury raises an eyebrow. 

"It was the best of my limited options. Better prenatal care than Helheim."

Silence. 

"So Eris, when you said you were raised by a cult leader," Parva starts. Fury snorts. 

"Odin, yes," Loki says. "Thor is his true-born son." 

"Are you a god?" She grins when she says it and Loki grins in return. 

"Of course. You frequently say 'oh god' in bed with me." 

"So looking you up." Parva types on her iPhone. 

"Don't believe the hype," Loki says. 

"You're a Public Enemy fan now?" Fury says. 

"Yes. It turns out there's an entire branch of music addressing the problems of a hated minority," Loki says. "And my sons are brown, and I understand that's important in this realm."

Fury raises both eyebrows. "Mm-hm." 

Parva breaks in. "Wikipedia says you're an example of the trickster archetype."

"What? Edit that. I am myself, not a moral lesson." 

"And married to a lady named Angrboda? I'm a dirty homewrecker." 

"Widowed," Loki says. "She dwells in Helheim, one of the realms of the dead, with our daughter. Conjugal visits are exceedingly difficult." 

"Oh." Parva's mouth twists. "Sorry." 

"Death isn't the same for us. It is..." Loki shakes his head. "The end of certain possibilities. Hela, my daughter, cannot walk in the fields of Asgard. She cannot have children. She cannot marry. But I can see her if I try. My sons, though, my three older sons, are imprisoned, enslaved, and lost to me unless I regain Odin's favor. At this stage I would not want Odin's favor if he offered it."

"So who's the baby-daddy?" Parva asks. 

"He's not in Wikipedia."

"Come on, spill," she says. 

"Eitri, son of Ivaldi. He made Draupnir the golden ring and Gullinbursti the golden boar." 

"And Mjolnir," Fury says. 

Loki frowns at him. 

"I know things," Fury says. "So...Odin turned you over to the Dwarves for punishment in the mines. You seduced Eitri, the leader of the Dwarves, you got pregnant, and he let you go. Am I wrong?" 

Loki inclines his head. 

"So my only question left is _why the fuck did you attack Earth in the first place_? You're too smart for that shit. Come on." 

Loki sits back on the couch, his mouth shut tight. He owes nothing to this small, rude man. 

Nothing. 

Damn it. 

"What did you do, girlie boy?" Parva asks. She and Una both stare at him. 

"Opened the portal for the Chitauri for their attack on New York," Loki says. He looks down at Vali and Narfi and their truth-seeking eyes. "And killed a number of people myself."

"Eighty-nine by your hands," Fury says.

"No, surely not by my hands."

"Sixty-two in the attack on our base. Three in Germany. Twenty-four in New York. Do the math. I'm not counting the people the Chitauri killed or it would be a lot higher." 

"Eighty-nine, then," Loki says. He will not argue with this little man. 

Fury leans forward. "So what I want to know is how much of that is Thanos responsible for?" 

Loki freezes. His breath comes short. "Do not call him by name," he whispers. 

Fury raises an eyebrow. 

"Names have power. Call the Death-lover by name and he may come." Loki hugs his babies to his chest. He kisses Narfi's silken head. He has protected their names, but their bodies may still be harmed, especially while they are so young. 

"So that's how bad he is," Fury says. "I mention the Hulk and you smile."

"It required the All-father to clear the Death-lover from my mind. Hulk only broke my bones. No worse than my so-called brother in that regard." 

Fury nods. "So what happened with the Death-lover?" 

"Go to him yourself and see!" 

But Parva nudges his knee with her foot. "Stop being the bad guy," she says. Loki lifts his chin and she continues. "You're being the asshole in the cop show who won't tell the cop where the murderer is. Quit it." 

"You know nothing of this," Loki starts, but the hardening of Parva's face turns that sally aside. "Yes, I see. I fell from the Bifrost into empty space," he says. "I do not know how long I fell. When it became clear I was not dying, I began to knit together all the paths through space I could find. The Death-lover detected that and diverted my half-finished road to his doorstep. He brought me in. Gave me dinner. Asked me what I wanted. I told him...power. And he gave me the scepter. Do you still have it?" 

"You know I'm not going to answer that," Fury says. 

"Destroy it," Loki says. "It connects you to the Death-lover. It will promise you whatever you want, but it will bring only destruction." 

"I'll take that under advisement," Fury says. 

Of course he is not listening. But it's not Loki's burden. "I won't say he gave me method," he says softly. "No more than I gave method to Barton or Selvig. But he gave me purpose."

"Your honor, the Death-lover made me do it?" 

"I could have resisted him if I wanted to. I did not want to," Loki says. "All he did was make me desire so madly that I traveled to Earth with no plan at all. If I'd had a plan...well, you would likely be dead and would have no opinions on the matter, but Parvati would be calling me King Loki."

Fury nods. 

"Glad you lost," Parva says. 

"As am I," Loki says. "Our children are more interesting than conquering the world. He caught me at a bad time." 

"What is the Bifrost?" 

"A bridge between worlds." 

"Why did you fall off?" 

"I jumped," Loki says. He looks at Fury. "Did Thor tell you that?" 

"He said you fell," Fury says. 

"I let go. Did he tell you I'm one of the Jotnar, not the Aesir? Not his blood at all, just the scaly blue snake in his bosom--"

Parva kicks him. 

"Ow," Loki says. 

"Quit being the villain." 

Loki shows her his true face, just a brief flash so he doesn't harm the twins against his chest. "I was born a villain," he says. "Frost giants eat their children, don't you know? You should not trust me around Una. I may become hungry." 

"Whatever. You're not as scary as my racist uncle."

"Then you don't know me very well," Loki says. He feels bitterness close around his heart. 

Strange returns. "I am ready." Fury crosses to the door. 

Loki stands and summons his armor. It molds itself to his new shape, incorporating the wrap into itself and placing the twins on his shoulders in the place of his cape. "Stay here," he tells Parva. 

"Hell no. I want to see the demon." 

"STAY," Loki commands with a flare of blue skin and a pointing finger. Parva recoils but stays seated. 

Strange says nothing, merely nods.

Outside the front door, unwelcome but not unexpected, are Fury and the entire complement of the Avengers. "Brother," Thor says, soft and yearning. 

"Do not touch me," Loki says. 

"It is true, then, I am an uncle again."

"Again? When have you ever been uncle to my children?" 

"Please," Strange says. "We have no time for fighting." 

"Then you should not have brought Thor before me!" The sight of Thor's noble, golden face enrages him. Thor is the perfect specimen of Asgard manhood. Loki is, as always, something twisted and uncomfortable to look upon. He can see it in the faces of the people before him. 

"May I at least know their names?" Thor asks. He looks sad. It makes Loki crave more, to see if he can make Thor cry. He so desperately wants to inflict on Thor some tiny portion of the pain and turmoil Loki has felt. 

"No," Loki says. He turns his face from Thor and walks. 

"I already knew Loki was a bitch, but when did he turn into a chick?" the archer asks in a too-loud whisper. Loki feels the weight of the twins against his back and that is the only, _only_ thing that keeps him from turning and stripping the archer's flesh from his meager human bones. 

"Chatter," the soldier chides. 

"A double D-cup, in my expert opinion. I would have noticed," Stark says. 

Loki stops and turns. "Is this your strategy, Fury? Pretend truce and goad me into attacking? Your words are cheap." 

"Mine are not," Strange says. "We are gathered to fight Dormammu, not each other. I asked the Avengers here in case my working fails." 

"What will they do? Hit the demon with hammers?" Loki says. 

"More effective than you may think," Strange says. 

"Back to the surprise boobs," Stark says. 

"It has been a long time since your last child was born, my brother. I did not know you desired more."

He feels as though his breath is frozen in his chest. "More? I desire children, yes, but Odin All-Father is unkind to my offspring. After my youngest son was thrown into the Midgard sea, I used a condom." 

"He was a giant serpent!" Thor protests. 

"He was a suckling babe!" Loki shouts. "I only know he yet lives because my daughter says he has not joined her in Hel!" 

Thor throws up his hands. "Brother, he is a serpent! I'm sure he's happy in the ocean--"

Loki snarls and summons daggers into his hands. 

Strange stamps his foot and the ground shakes, causing Thor and Loki both to fall on their backsides. Loki recalls himself and banishes the daggers to join his armor. He cannot risk attacking. Damn Thor!

Strange helps Loki to his feet. Fury helps up Thor. "Arguments can wait," Strange says. 

"Go back to base," Fury says. 

Thor looks like he's going to argue, but the soldier steps up and puts his hand on Thor's shoulder. "Go home," the soldier says. "We'll keep him safe." 

As if Thor ever kept Loki safe. It was Loki who staged the wedding and retrieved Mjolnir from the giant. It was Loki who tickled the tonsils of the sea dragon that had swallowed Thor so it vomited Thor back up again. It was Loki who treated the mysterious spell that meant Thor ate and ate but took no nourishment. 

_Know your place, brother_ , Thor said on Jotunheim, meaning his place covering Thor's mistakes and bandaging Thor's scraped knees. No more. Loki Manwoman makes his own place. 

He walks purposefully beside Strange. Perhaps too fast. The twins are fretful, tugging on his hair with their tiny hands. They remind him of their uncle. 

Fortunately, the Great Nexus is on the next block. He is already tired of the hot gaze of the other Avengers behind him, accusing (but he tried to kill them all the last time he saw them, he must remember this, he is a prince, he knows how to deal with hostile powers). 

The smell of angry magic is hot in the air when Strange opens the door. Loki can feel the vast mind on the other side of the portal, testing for any weakness. He wonders what would happen if he let it through. 

His children breathe against his neck. No. Not here, not now. He calms himself. Thor is banished and he is here; what more does he need to know? 

"What is Loki's role in this?" asks the green beast masquerading as a man. "I'm curious as to how this all works." 

"Dormammu is death. A nursing mother is life. A nursing god, a magic user, both male and female? He is the hydrofluoric acid to Dormammu's base," Strange says. 

"The David Bowie to Dormammu's Kenny G," Loki offers. 

"But how do you know what elements are key? And how do you identify them?" 

"Study," Strange says. 

"A thousand years of the best tutors gold can hire," Loki says. "Thor, meanwhile, spent his time drawing stick figure dragons and braiding his hair."

"Well, it is great hair," the archer says. 

Strange marks his runes around a seemingly empty window. Loki recognizes them; they are crude, compared to the elegant script of Asgard, but they are effective. Dormammu, in its form as a horned skeleton clothed in fire, appears and snarls against the bindings. The Avengers jump back with various curses. 

Loki hisses. "Your bonds are weak." He can feel Dormammu seeping through the boundaries of the worlds. 

"You are strong," Strange says. 

"I am. I can close this door completely if I trust you--which you know, don't you? I must go into a trance to complete this working. I must boil over." 

Strange offers him a bottle. Loki laughs, a short sound, and takes it. He twists off the cap and smells the alcohol, nearly straight alcohol, so strong it burns his nose. But it is not poison and it is exactly what he needs. He tips his head back and downs the bottle in one long searing flow. 

He is light-headed when he finishes, which is an excellent start. He transforms himself and the twins into living green flame and begins to dance. 

"Fire bad, excuse me," Banner says. He elbows his way out of the room. Loki laughs to see his fear.

Loki bends and flickers, anchored to the floor, as his boys clutch his hands and bob above his head. No, there is nothing to fear, there is only the music of life that beats through the earth and breathes through the sky. He can feel Dormammu, there beyond the veil, the anti-life, the ravenous consumer. He feels Dormammu's loathing for his green living flame. Loki pulses with the earth and touches the motherly soul of the realm. Life, at the base of it, all life was potential, and he could tap into this potential and choke anti-life into impotence...

He loses time, name, and place, but he gains immense power, and when he whirls back into his body, naked and free, he is giddy with it. He bares his teeth at the anti-life. He squeezes his breasts and sprays life-giving milk into the face of Dormammu. 

Dormammu rages. Loki giggles helplessly and collapses cross-legged onto the floor between his sons. He flicks droplets of milk over the portal, bringing all the power of the earth to bear on the anti-life. It is too funny to think that the anti-life thinks it can win over life. Creation is so much more powerful than destruction. 

"There. It is done," Strange says. 

Loki takes a deep breath and finds his body. He is still beaming from the raw delight of it all. He is leaking milk in rivulets over the blue ink on his chest. 

"That looked like fun," the spy says beside him. 

"I create life. Drink joy from my tits," Loki says to her. 

"He is tripping balls," the archer says. The spy laughs behind her hand. 

"But, squirt guns!" Stark is saying. 

"That's how milk works. I guess you never milked a cow?" the soldier says. 

"I've never even seen a cow!" Stark yells. "Where would I see a cow?" 

The spy laughs harder, accompanied by the archer. Loki reluctantly grounds himself. He would prefer to revel in his altered state, but he is among enemies. He kisses Vali's head, kisses Narfi's head, and stands, donning his armor as he straightens up. 

The boys once again are cradled against his back. His shoulders are straight. He cannot control the curl of his mouth, though. "Stand aside for the king," he says. 

The spy snorts. She bows and ushers him to the door. 

Outside, Parva is talking to Thor with Una in her arms. "Lesbian means I prefer women," she says. 

"Ah! We do not have such on Asgard."

Thor. It becomes a curse in his mind. _Thor._ All his good humor vanishes.

"Yes we do," Loki says. "We just don't have a word for it. Have you not marked how often Sif emerges from fair Freyja's bedchamber? Or how sweet-tongued Bragi is the only one who can calm Odr's frenzy?"

"Brother! Yes, that is true, but those are dalliances. Will you make this woman your wife? I like her!" 

"Oh, buddy, stop trying," Stark mutters. 

"I do not give two shits what you like!" Loki shouts. "You are not my family!"

"But we are milk-siblings even if we are not blood! Loki, I have heard your grievances, but you accepted Father's judgement on your sons, and Hela was born dead. She was not breathing. She never breathed. She opened her eyes and grew because of your magic."

Loki hisses. "Lies." 

"Mother said it was grief for a stillborn babe. She always belonged to Hel, brother. Angrboda knew it; that's why she named her Hela. She never lived. It was Father's favor that made her queen of Helheim. But your sons--I would have fought beside you, but you did not fight."

Loki is shaking, remembering the council, Angrboda's face streaked with tears, Jormungandr wrapped around her arms as she tried to stir sympathy in the All-Father. No, Loki did not argue, not as Angrboda did. He was a perfect prince and listened silently to his father's pronouncement. "Thor Lack-wit, Thor Hair-brains, Thor Meat-head! I thought I was my father's son! I thought he bore some love for me! I thought they were his grandchildren and would have some claim on his heart! But now I know the truth, and I will--" 

Thor places his hand on Mjolnir. Loki looks down and finds that his hands are glowing with power. 

Loki calms himself. He lifts his hand and the rune of his name hovers over his head. "Hear my words, Thor. Hear my words, Heimdall. Hear my words, Odin." He knows they are watching him. Thor holds still and looks most pained. Even the other Avengers stand still and watch him curiously. "These are the words of Loki Laufeyson. My children number six. Two, nameless, milk-sucking, Midgard-raised. Three--" He conjures the illusion of Sleipnir, his beautiful son, over his right shoulder. "The stallion Sleipnir, eight-legged, most favored, happy in Asgard's stable. Four--" He conjures the illusion of Hela, blue-skinned and half-beautiful, half-decaying from the bone, also at his right side. "Queen Hela, beyond the reach of the living. Five--" He conjures the illusion of Fenrir, the massive wolf, chained and howling, at his left shoulder. "The wolf Fenrir, dwarf-chained, hungry. Six--" He conjures the illusion of Jormungandr, the rainbow-scaled serpent, at his left side. "The serpent Jormungandr, midnight-swimming, lost beyond my sight. Know my children, Thor." 

"I know them," Thor says.

"If you wish me to call you brother, free my son Fenrir and find my son Jormungandr. These are my terms. Those were the words of Loki." He lowers his hand and erases the rune, but leaves the images of his four lost children. 

"But loosing Fenrir will bring on Ragnarok. It is prophesied," Thor says. 

"You have a dilemma, then, don't you?" Loki breathes deeply, in and out, and joins Parva, who has been quietly watching. His four children stand motionless in the street. "You have much to prove, Thor Odinson. I have overcome my madness. Have you overcome your indifference?" 

"Jury's still out on the madness, Bessie," Stark says. Romanov closes her eyes and laughs helplessly again. She smiles at Loki when she recovers. 

Loki banishes the images of his children. And, because he is a prince, he says, "I owe you a personal debt, Barton." 

The archer shrugs. "No, what's some brainwashing between mortal enemies? We're cool," Barton says. 

"A warrior killed in combat is carried to Valhalla by the Valkyries," Loki says. He points his finger and opens a window to the realm. 

"--and then, and then, I kicked them in the face--hey!" Coulson cries. He is sitting at a trestle table, dressed in fur, holding a tankard larger than his head. "Heyyy!" He waves the tankard. 

"Phil," Romanov says, stunned. 

"Did we win?" Coulson asks. "No, of course we won! We! Are! The! Best!" The rest of his table erupts in cheers, filling the street with echoing voices. Another warrior leans in and embraces his shoulders. 

"We won," Fury says. 

"I carried a nuke into space and creamed the Chitauri," Stark says. "The others helped."

"What about Loki? He stabbed me in the BACK," Coulson says. He leans forward and shakes his finger at the portal. He cannot see Loki, due to its location. 

"Hulk smashed," Banner says. 

"He was punished in Asgard," Thor says. 

"In the back! He would not have gotten me from the front!" Coulson says. He slams his tankard down and beer sloshes out. The warriors around him cheer. 

"Never, boss," Barton says. 

"Having a good time?" Romanov asks. 

"Such a good time! You should come! We're going to wrestle pigs later!" 

"Pigs?" Fury says. 

"Roast pigs! You wrestle them, then you eat them. It's hilarious!" Coulson grins. He sits up too hard and nearly falls, but the warrior beside him rights him. 

"We'll be there in a couple of years, boss," Barton says. 

"That's okay! Plenty of pigs. Lots of beer. Lots and lots of beer." Coulson lifts the tankard and drinks heavily, cheers rising around him. Loki closes the window. 

"Let's return home," Loki says to Parva. She nods. Loki opens a pathway along the barely-cooled traces of Strange's. 

At home, Parva places Una on her blanket. Loki dismisses his armor and places his sons beside his daughter. He looks at Parva.

"If you ever talk to me that way again I'm going to actually kill you," she says. 

Loki nods and is silent. 

"Fuck. Fuck you. Who are you? That guy, cursing your brother? Or this person here? And seriously, eating babies? That is such bullshit!" 

"These are the stories Aesir tell about Jotnar," Loki says. 

"Fuck off. I can't even--" She bares her teeth. "I get why people hit people. I want to hit you so bad." 

"Then hit me. You cannot damage my godlike flesh." 

She stalks up to him and raises her hands, but does not strike. Instead she pushes him back onto the couch. "Fuck you," she says. She climbs on top of him. 

"Fuck you, puny mortal." He stares up into her blazing eyes. 

"Fuck you." Parva lowers her head and bites his lip. It feels like a kiss. Loki curls his fingers into the sides of her shirt and rips it down the spine. 

She shoves his shirt up and his leggings down. She steps on his leggings, tearing them and forcing them to the floor, and parts his legs with her hips. He is already cock-proud against her. 

Loki slides his hands down her back to her ass and back again. Parva snarls and thrusts two fingers into his cunt. Loki arches his spine off the couch. "Not telling me what to do now," Parva says. 

"No." He inhales as Parva presses her thumb into his asshole. 

She fucks him roughly with her hand. Loki throws his head back and lets himself go, tapping back into the strands of power he so recently used. He closes his eyes and tries to see the future. 

When he comes, seething with her roughness and anger, he sees Parva kissing two young men, unmistakably his sons. He senses smaller children around her; those must be their future offspring. He opens his eyes, back in himself. "I want to bear your child," he says. 

"Jesus. I'm still pissed as hell at you!" 

"You have mastered a god. You are worthy of my children." 

Parva strokes his face. "Asshole." 

"My father thinks that my child-bearing is shameful. My brother thinks that my magic-working is weak. You know what it is to reject the lies of your family and seek your own truth. Help me start over," Loki says. 

She looks away, but he has her, and he is much relieved. Right now, she is his most important ally.


	7. Chapter 7

SHIELD, Loki suspects, alerts the Canadian immigration authorities. 

"I need to apply for refugee status," Loki says. "My children are in danger. My father is the religious and political head of our kingdom and he believes my children are a threat to his life."

"What kingdom is this?" the agent asks. 

"Asgard."

The agent raises her eyebrows. As soon as he can, Loki hires a good lawyer, and after that, it actually goes rather well. Gold helps. Gold always helps. 

"Do you have a trade?" the lawyer asks. 

"Magical consulting," Parva answers. She looks at him. 

Loki is no fool. "Yes. I was recently called in by Dr. Strange. He needed help closing the Great Nexus against Dormammu." 

The lawyer looks up. "Okay. God help me, there's a precedent. Ten years ago the court would have laughed in your face, but now? Okay." 

"I can prove all my claims," Loki says. 

He gains permanent residence in Canada. He begins to work for a living. It's novel. He creates good luck and fertility charms and people give him large amounts of Midgard currency, which he then puts in a bank, not a treasure vault. 

It seems awfully abstract, but he learns to judge the numbers by Parva's face. 

*

Loki's phone rings. He answers it one-handed, transferring diapers from washer to dryer with the other. "Yes?"

"Join me!"

"What? Who is this?"

"Mysterio!"

"Never heard of you." Loki hangs up. He sets the dryer to optimum dry, high heat. The phone rings again. "Yes?"

"I am Mysterio the powerful! Join forces with me!"

"Fool." Loki hangs up.

The phone rings again. "I'm not _interested_ ," Loki sneers.

"I am Mysterio the magnificent!"

"Fine. Perform one task for me and I will join forces with you."

"Yes! Give me the task!"

"Dry this load of diapers faster than the dryer does."

There is a pause. "Diapers?"

"My son is swaddled in an old T-shirt. The clock is ticking." Loki smiles at the kitchen wall.

"Mysterio does not do diapers."

"Then I will not do Mysterio." Loki hangs up.

The phone rings back and Loki pushes himself through the line and appears in spectral form, fully armored.

Mysterio is a rather forlorn mid-thirties man in stained jeans and a plain blue hoodie, sitting in front of a computer with Loki's--Eris Wolf's--website up on the screen. He yelps when Loki appears. His eyes widen. "I will not be pestered," Loki says.

"I--I have many excellent ideas!"

"Such as?"

"Robbing the Federal Reserve! We just need a magic worker to turn the doors to snakes!"

"Turn the doors to snakes." Loki pauses. "You want to rob the Federal Reserve by turning the doors to snakes," he repeats, to let the idiocy sink in.

"Or something else," Mysterio says.

"My son leaves better ideas than that in his diapers. What need have I for Midgard gold?" He cups his hand and lets the illusion of gold coins tumble through his palm to bounce on the floor. Mysterio tries to grab one, but they are only tricks of light. "I am gifted money, you bumbling toad, as befits my rank and talents. I have never been a thief. In fact, I believe I have invested in United States treasury bonds. You would steal from ME."

He points his staff and Mysterio leaps back in his wheeled computer chair. There is a flash of smoke and confetti rains down around him. "You're lucky I'm not really here," Loki says. "Now begone and trouble me no further."

Loki returns to his home and hangs up the phone.

Imbecile.

*

When Una turns one year old, they throw a party for Parva's friends. 

"Girl, I haven't seen you in forever!" The man called David has cropped black hair. He lifts Parva into the air when he hugs her. 

"We had three babies at the same time! I think I lost my actual mind," Parva says. 

"Jeez," David says. His face falls. 

"I don't need child support. Shut up. Me and Eris and the kids are fine." 

"Okay, I just--" He waves his hands. 

"Una calls me Daddy," Parva tells him. 

Meanwhile, David's partner Torque addresses Loki shyly. "So--I'm a mutant too. I can look at broken machines and just see what the broken part is." 

"Really? How useful. Does it extend to unfinished machines, seeing what they require to be completed?" 

"Yeah, to a certain extent." 

Loki shakes his head. He's been in this realm for little more than a year and even he knows this is a criminally wasted opportunity. "Here is the phone number of Pepper Potts' assistant," he says, pulling up his phone. "Name your salary and she will pay it."

"What?" 

"You silly child, you can look at their new arc reactor and determine what it needs to be complete! Ask for a million upfront and ten million bonus."

"Um."

On the floor, Una hits Narfi with a rattle and Narfi shrieks in indignation. Vali grabs the rattle and crawls away with three of his four arms, the fourth holding the rattle to his chest. Loki plants a foot on the floor to prevent Vali from escaping the room. 

Vali sits and regards his foot, chewing on the rattle. In the center of the room, Una and Narfi are having a heated conversation in no known language. 

"Eris! David's going to take family pictures of us," Parva says. "Torque, are you okay?" 

"Um," Torque says. "Maybe fainting." But he stores the number carefully in his pocket. 

Then Loki meets two sisters, Molly and Sarah. Molly gets down on the floor and looks Narfi in the face at his level. Sarah baked the cake which Parva said was obligatory for celebrations of this kind, a golden creation topped with strawberries and whipped cream. 

"He's an old soul," Molly says. 

"He is a terribly new soul," Loki says. "Nine months old." Narfi grabs his leg and pulls up with four fistfuls of his slim cotton trousers. He balances with both chubby feet on top of Loki's long, bare foot, and looks up at Loki. "Are you some ancient creature reincarnate, then?" Loki asks him. 

"Muh," Narfi says. He reaches up to Loki. "Nuk?" 

"Ah. The truth comes out. He's hungry." Loki lifts him into his lap. Narfi assists by pulling at the buttons on the top of his salwar kameez. 

Another of Parva's friends stops by Loki's chair. Chris is a student healer, apparently. "The anatomy of the four arms is so interesting," she says. "Do you mind if I take some pictures of him?" 

He minds. He frowns and settles Narfi at his breast. 

"Guess that's a no," Chris says. 

"He is not an anatomical specimen," Loki says. 

"No. He's Hillary, and he's about five minutes from learning to walk, and he likes cheese," Chris says. "Parva talks about him all the time. And Henry crawls like crazy and isn't interested in walking and likes carrots. I'm interested because everything works so well in his body and it's not the boring old normal. I'm specializing in orthopedics, so this is my thing." 

Loki looks up at her. Parva swoops in behind him and kisses his cheek. "The twins are beautiful and amazing," she says. "Of course she wants to take pictures." 

"And she will show them to others, and they will come to poke and prod my children, and my sons will know they are abnormal. No. My sons will hear only that they are perfect until they are old enough that the opinions of others mean nothing." He turns his eyes from green to Jotun red. "Did you think my sons were the only mutants in the room?" 

"Okay. Mama Bear says no. Don't kill my friends with your brain," Parva says. She leans down and kisses Loki on the mouth. 

"No. Killing guests of my hearth would be uncivilized." Loki returns his eyes to his preferred green. He wonders what Parva would think of his true form, if she would claim to find him beautiful then. 

"Totally taking no for an answer," Chris says. 

"That was cosmic," Molly says. 

"Come on, let's cut the cake. Put your tits away." Parva strokes his hair. 

*

In bed, that night, Parva says, "I didn't know you could shapeshift." 

Loki, beside her, is brushing his hair. "I can. I do. I was physically male for most of my life." 

"Asshole. No wonder your figure snapped back so fast. Unlike me." She jiggles her round belly. 

"You are the image of motherhood," Loki says. He puts his brush down and braids his hair over his shoulder quickly. 

"And you're the image of a white Rupaul."

"I cannot tell if that is a compliment." Loki slides into bed and kisses her. 

"It so is. So you could be a girl if you wanted?" 

Loki responds by shifting into fully female form. His hips broaden, his shoulders narrow, and his penis retreats. He kneels over her, waiting. 

She looks him up and down. "No. It's not you." 

"No pink-fleshed form is truly me. I do not ever want you to see my real, monstrous shape."

"Do you think I'm arguing essentialism? I bleach my hair. Change back, you're freaking me out."

Loki sits back on her legs and relaxes into his half-male form. It has become comfortable for him. It feels right. 

"You picked this shape, right? So it's the way you want to be, right, the way you want your sons to recognize you?" Parva says. 

Loki nods. 

"So it's you, and that's the way I love you."

It stabs him to the heart. He gasps, quite breathless, for who has ever said that to him? Frigga, his mother. Thor, his brother. Hela, the only one of his children able to speak. All of them now lost to him. 

"I love you," she says. She sits up.

He sobs. He is undone with a word. He pulls away, hiding his face, but he cannot hide his trembling. 

"It's okay," she says. "I love you." She holds out her hands and he curls against her breast and cries.

*

Loki celebrates the boys' first birthday privately. Doctor Strange sends a card with a cartoon dragon on the front. "To life," it says inside. 

"Mummy!" Narfi calls, echoed by his brother. "Mummy!" 

Loki kisses them both. "I love you," he says, to get himself into the practice. He will not be his father. 

*

He agrees to have his picture taken for their pleasure rather than for scientific knowledge. 

"Naked," Parva insists. "Naked photo." 

"Why?" 

"Because we're beautiful," Parva says, which is undeniable. 

They strip the babies too, which results in the boys gleefully pissing all over the cream cloth backdrop, but the photographs are excellent once the cream is replaced by green fabric. Loki prefers the picture where he and Parva stand nobly back to back with the children at their feet. Loki is a head and a half taller, but Parva has the fierce eyes of a warrior. Parva likes the one where Loki stands, nursing Una, and she sits, nursing both the twins. 

"See? We're beautiful," she says later, when they are both in bed looking at the pictures on her iPad. 

"We are." He looks at her. "I have always been depicted in my armor before. Asgard sets great store by ceremony." 

"Your armor is hilarious, girlie boy." 

"It's traditional." He butts her temple gently with his forehead. 

"Mahhh," she bleats. She butts his chest in return. 

"The horns are of a male hippogriff, not a goat." 

Parva frowns at him. "Hippogriffs are eagle-horses. They don't have horns." 

"Have you ever seen one?" Loki demands. "Because I slew one as model for my helm and it was horned." 

"Mm-hm." She looks back down at the pictures. "Meh-h-h-h," she bleats in a whisper. 

"I am no goat, foolish mortal woman!" He leaps upon her and begins to tickle her sides. Parva screeches and kicks him in the thighs until he kisses her. They roll across the bed together, iPad forgotten in the sheets.


	8. Chapter 8

"Eris, you have a package from Latveria. Is it a bomb?" Parva calls. 

Loki frowns and emerges from his study. Parva has her arms crossed and she's looking skeptically at a large package sitting at the front door. Loki covers it with a diamond bubble to be sure, then wills it open inside that protection. 

The package holds a golden rose, a letter, and an airplane ticket. All are quite safe. "This is bound to be good," Loki says, and he reads the letter

LATVERIA LACKS A QUEEN

VICTOR VON DOOM INVITES ERIS WOLF TO APPLY FOR THE POSITION

QUALIFIED BY PROVEN FERTILITY AND MAGICAL APTITUDE

It was signed with a flourish. 

"I'm going to punch him square in his fat metal face," Parva says. 

Loki looks at the ticket. "There's only one ticket. He expects me to leave the twins?" 

"I bet you a dollar he doesn't know you're a dude." 

"No, certainly--oh," Loki says, as Parva grips him by the cock. 

"I know you're a dude," Parva says. She backs him up toward the couch. 

"You have never once given me a rose, though..." 

"I'm going to give you a baby." She shoves him backwards and climbs into his lap. 

Loki grins widely. "How?" 

"Going to fuck you so hard your cock turns inside out and shoots up your cunt," Parva says, and then she covers his mouth with hers and neither of them speak for some time. 

*

When the boys are fifteen months old, Loki receives a request from Reed Richards for a paid consultation. "Take it," Parva says. "Think of the moolah." 

"Moolah." Loki smiles. 

"Gold, baby, gold."

"All the gold in this realm is but a faint shadow of the riches of Asgard. Richards is a colleague of the Avengers. Let him pester Thor instead."

"Okay, tell him no. But if you do, we're going to have to stop eating out and start cooking at home. Income isn't keeping up with outflow." 

Loki frowns. "Are you sure? I came to this place with a great store of treasure. Plus Torque gave me a finding fee for the Stark Industries connection." Loki's concept of currency is hazy. On Asgard, everything worth having is unique and priceless, so barter is the norm. 

"Yeah, and that was great, but you live like a fucking king, girlie boy. Remember when you bought that painting last week?" 

"I liked it."

"Okay, well, this will buy you two more." 

"I only need the one." 

Parva grabs his hair and pulls. "Take. The job." 

"None may command me," Loki says. Parva pulls harder. 

He takes the job. 

Richards suggests Skype and Loki agrees because he is most certainly not going back to New York City. Once the scientist begins to pose his questions, though, Loki finds them intelligent and creative. The session goes much longer than originally planned. 

Long enough, in fact, that Vali toddles into the room demanding to be fed. "Nuk!" 

"Is that a baby?" Richards asks. 

"My son." Loki lifts him into his lap and unbuttons his shirt. 

"How old?" 

"Fifteen months." 

"My Franklin is a year old." Richards smiles. 

Loki settles Vali across his lap to nurse. Vali closes both right hands around Loki's thumb. "The inherent problem with integrating magic into Midgard technology is the crudeness of your circuitry. The advances in nanotechnology should help to mitigate--ow!" Vali has bitten him. He pulls the baby from his breast and covers the nipple to stop his milk. "No!"

"Are you all right?" Reed Richards asks.

"He gnaws me like a vicious beast." Vali grabs for his breast fretfully and Loki begins to feed again. "Advances in nanotechnology should enable you to refine your paths to the width of a single electron--AH!"

This time, Vali is chortling. He thinks this is funny. "I say you nay, varlet!" Loki snaps. "Your mother's blood is no fit feast for a princeling! You will eat a banana or nothing at all!" 

He sets Vali on the floor. His son looks distressed, but Loki is far more so; there is, in fact, blood below his nipple. "Teeth of a bilgesnipe," Loki hisses. He rubs his skin to heal it.

"My sympathies. Sue darn near dropped Franklin once when he bit her." 

Vali whines "Mummy, Mummy!" and reaches up his hands. Loki gives him a teething ring instead and ignores his grizzling. 

"Whoa! Is this science or Skinemax! Who's the booby babe?" someone asks offscreen.

"Uh, this is--" Richards starts.

"Either way, you're married to my sister, so--" Hands cover Richards' eyes and he is pulled backwards from the screen. A golden-haired man takes his place. "Hey!"

"Hey," Loki says in reply. The corners of his mouth turn up as he regards this callow young man.

"The topless look is so in this year."

"Are you Johnny Storm? Tales of your heroism precede you."

The young man grins. "That's me."

His nipple is healed. He lowers his hand. "Shall I ask your opinion on another look?" he asks.

"Sure," Storm says, grinning even wider.

Loki tilts his head, displaying the curve from chin to breast. He unbuttons the shirt all the way down, and continues to his trousers as the lustful boy watches. He smiles, stands, and lets his trousers fall, exposing his penis.

"Whoa!" The boy jumps back from the screen. Loki narrows his eyes and projects an image of his cock and balls jumping through the monitor on little black-furred legs. The boy yelps as Loki's genitals bow and waggle at him, then flees as they jump into his lap. 

"You probably should have asked who I was talking to," Richards says to the boy. Storm runs from the room. Loki chases him, growing his cock to monstrous proportions, until the boy catches fire and jumps from the window to escape it. 

Loki smiles. The illusion dissipates.

"Sorry about that," Richards says. 

"Once you can create pathways a single electron wide, you will have better luck creating circuits of sufficient complexity to channel magic."

"That makes sense."

*

The following day, Richards Skypes him again. "It occurs to me that you projected your magic into my lab," Richards says. 

"I did." 

"If I asked you for your assistance in shielding my lab from that sort of thing in the future, what would you say?" 

"That such assistance would be expensive, but that I have three children and a girlfriend to feed, and I will help. I will email you my fee schedule." Once Parva draws it up, anyway. 

"I know that you're Loki," Richards said. "Fury filled me in."

"Yes. I took a use name so that my sons may grow unburdened by history." 

"I'm glad you're on our side now."

"There are no sides," Loki says. 

"Well--okay," Richards says. "Send me your rates and we'll work something out." 

The children are asleep in their crib. Loki sits back at his computer and pinches his lip between two fingers. He does not want to be on his brother's side; he is not on any side but his own. But...he considers Strange's card. _To life._ What did Parva say? That living, with all its pains, was better than the alternative.

He had expected to die in the attack on New York. Once his brother arrived, he thought for a certainty that Mjolnir would split his skull. 

But then he didn't die. The giant beat him like laundry on a stone, the portal closed, he realized the day was lost, and he lay there, chastened and defeated, and realized he had to live with himself.

Odin taught him he was ruler of nothing, that nothing was rightfully due to him. Thanos taught him he was prince of nothing, that no awe was incumbent in his person. Banner taught him he was master of nothing, that there were forces greater than himself. 

He is Loki, Nothingson, King of Zero. 

But mother of six. Of seven. He stands and walks into the nursery. 

Parva is holding Una, making faces at her. The boys are wrestling in their crib, knocking it about on its wooden legs. "How now, varlets?" Loki says, leaning over the crib. 

"Quit calling them varlets. You're going to give them a complex." 

"Mother called me her little trip-stone for the way I lurked about her feet. I need a mirror." Loki looks about the room. 

"There's one in the bathroom." Parva sets Una on the floor. Una runs to the crib, laughing at the antics of the boys, as Parva retrieves the mirror. 

"Hen-y and Hilly funny, Mummy," Una says. The boys squeak as they roll across the crib. 

"Boys. Peace," Loki says. He grabs their shirts and separates them. They are not hurting each other, but they might break the crib if they continue. They gain magical strength the more they fight each other. 

"Here's the mirror. What are you doing?" 

"Family visit," Loki says. He stands the mirror in the corner of the crib and restrains the twins by their collars. "Hela," he says, pushing to create a speaking portal. 

Hela appears in the mirror. "Father," she says. "It has been some short time, but all times are the same to me." 

"I have not forgotten you, my daughter. I present to you my sons, your brothers."

Hela leans in until the mirror shows only her clear green eye. "Strength and wisdom," she says. 

"Indeed. I present also my consort Parva and her daughter Una. Una is milk-sister to my sons." Loki looks at Parva and she joins him, lifting up Una so that she can be seen.

"Parva. Una. Blessings of my realm. I hope that we shall never meet. I hope you spend eternity in Valhalla where the sun is bright and the mead is sweet." 

"Blessings from Earth," Parva says. "I'm honored to meet Loki's daughter." 

The portal flickers. It is exceedingly difficult to maintain a link between Midgard and Helheim. "I love you, my daughter," Loki says, and then he lets the portal go. 

"And I you," Hela says, her voice the echo of a whisper. The mirror becomes a mirror once again. Loki lets his sons go and they both crawl over to investigate the magic object. Parva lets Una join them.

Parva exhales. "You could have warned me!" 

"You were fine." Loki kisses her. 

"I would have put on a nice dress if I knew I was visiting a queen." 

"A nice Midgard dress. It wouldn't have seemed any different to her." 

"Jerk."

"Yes." 

"Daddy," Vali says, holding his hands up to Parva. "Daddy!" 

She picks him up and cradles him. "What do you need, Henry?" He looks innocent. 

"Out," Narfi says. Loki lifts him out of the crib onto the floor. 

Vali leans in as if to whisper in Parva's ear. "POOP!" he cries. Una and Narfi fall over for laughing. 

"You're mummy's boy, that's for sure," Parva says. 

*

Richards pays Loki a tremendous amount of money to help him ward his lab. Some months later, Stark offers a staggering amount for Loki to ward the tower. "But he wants you in New York," Parva says. "He wants you on site so he can monitor the process." She is handling the negotiation. 

"Fuck him sideways with rock troll cock," Loki swears. "Drill his head and fill it with worms. Ice fill his belly and snakes bite his liver." 

"No?" 

"Never Stark. Anyone but Stark. It is sure to be a trick. Even if it is not a trick, I will not be able to hold my temper around Thor." 

"Okay. I'll tell Stark not until Thor fulfills his quest." 

"You are wise." 

"You know it." She kisses his cheek.

*

Richards hires Loki to work on a magic detecting device. "Crude work," Loki says.

"It's the prototype. I'm refining the viruses we use to create the structures," Sue says. 

"I'm impressed. You're attempting to leap over a hundred thousand years of technological development."

"Oh, well, if you're going to fail, fail big," Reed says. "Stark is providing the AI if I can create the machine. The idea is to tune the machine to certain ranges. Big magic versus small magic. More flexibility to deal with different situations."

"Hm." The inherent problem with magic detectors is that they require far too much attention. This is the reason Odin himself has only Heimdall. If Stark can make an artificial Heimdall, he is a formidable man indeed.

"So, your professional opinion?" Richards asks.

Of course, detecting magic is not the same as wielding magic. "Crude but effective, like a hammer. Some things do not need to be complex."

He assists Richards with the routing of circuits and the appropriate ranges, all the nuances that experience brings. 

Meanwhile, Parva and the children have been playing with Franklin and Ben Grimm, who cares for Franklin while his parents work. When Loki finishes his work and goes to find them, Grimm has two children in each hand and is spinning in place while they shriek happily. 

Narfi sees him first. "Mummy! Down, down!" 

"Down?" Grimm says. He holds them up higher. 

"Nooo! Wrong way!" Franklin says. 

"Oh, that down." Grimm bends over and puts his hands on the floor, letting the children climb off. All four run over, even Franklin, who seizes Loki's knee. 

"Hello," Franklin says. 

"Hello. My name is Eris and I'm Una and Henry and Hillary's mum," Loki says. 

"Franklin has a pool!" Vali reports. 

"Ben is made of rock," Una says. 

"We're up high," Narfi says. 

"You're right, all of you. Well observed." 

"Our little varlets have been having the time of their lives," Parva says. She leans over the children and kisses his lips. "You?" 

"Oh, she was great. Pointed us in the right direction on all kinds of problems," Sue says. 

"He," Reed murmurs. Loki looks over and grins broadly. Reed is examining his shoe. 

"Oh! I'm sorry. Oh, jeez," Sue says. 

"Quite all right," Loki says. 

There's a knock at the window and it swing open. Johnny Storm climbs through with a woman Loki isn't familiar with. "Hey! Jewel came by for a uniform upgrade--ooh," Storm says. He looks at Loki. "Um. I want to apologize for disrespecting you last time. That was conduct unbecoming of a superhero." 

"You are forgiven," Loki says. He grins even wider.

"Dude, what did you do?" Jewel asks him.

"A mere flirtation. Nothing of import," Loki says. 

"What? He is taken, mister," Parva says. She puts her hands on her hips. 

Loki snickers. Franklin tugs on the buckles on his boots and Loki bends to pick him up. "Yes, my poppet?" Loki asks. 

Franklin strokes Loki's hair. "Pretty."

"Thank you," Loki says. "But do you not prefer your mother's golden locks?" 

Franklin looks at his mother, then back at Loki. "My hair is brown." 

"I see." Loki tugs on Franklin's hair, growing it long and turning it black. "There, how do you like that?" 

Franklin gasps. "My hair is black! Mommy, my hair is black!" 

"I see that, baby! But I don't know if you have the skin tone for it," Sue says. 

"Can you do mine? Blonde," Jewel says. "With pink tips!" 

This is when the teleportation beam hits.

Loki--still holding Franklin--Sue, and Jewel are in a small gray room. Sue raises a shield around them, Loki summons his armor, and Jewel puts up glowing fists.

"Susan and spares! Susan and spares! Master will be pleased!" a ratty voice says from the ceiling.

"Doom!" Sue yells. "Show yourself! You know you won't get away with this!"

"Susan and spares and...baby. Baby?" the voice mutters. "Master doesn't want a baby."

Loki puts his hands to Franklin's back. His armor adapts itself to his shape and formed a shell over the toddler's small body. "Mommy?" Franklin says against his neck.

"Don't need the baby," the voice says. A red light begins to glow in the wall.

"No!" Sue screams.

"Hold!" Loki shouts at the same moment. "I am Eris Wolf and this child is mine. Your master will be most displeased if he is harmed."

"Eris? Wolf?"

"I was invited to Latveria to be Doom's queen," Loki says. "My invitation was destroyed by a jealous lover. I am most pleased to regain it now."

"Queen? Queen. Hm. How do you spell Eris?"

"E-R-I-S," Loki says.

"Eris Wolf. Eris Wolf and Susan and spare! Well done, well done," the voice says. The red light fades.

"'Spare' my ass," Jewel mutters. She and Sue are looking at Loki mistrustfully. 

They dock in a matter of moments. They were in the air, Loki thinks, and now are on a ship, from the slight sway of his balance. The door opens and Loki leads the way. 

He first notices that Doom is not wearing armor, but rather is made of metal. Second, he sees that Doom favors dull green tones of cape and tunic that compliment Loki's armor. "Eris Wolf, mage and mother," Doom says. 

"Victor Von Doom, king of Latveria," Loki says. 

"You ignored my invitation." 

"It was destroyed by my lover." 

"And this child?" Doom asks. 

"Proof of my strength and fertility. Is he not fine?" Loki strokes Franklin's hair. "Let these women care for him so that we may talk." 

Doom's eyes rake over him. Clearly the damn fool doesn't even know he's male; men are so often fooled by breasts. Doom nods. 

Loki lifts Franklin out of the shell of his armor and hands him to Sue, who manages to receive him rather than clutch him desperately to her bosom. Smart woman. 

Loki accompanies Doom into his private quarters. His curiosity is piqued by this man's strange form.

"Who made your armor?" Doom asks. 

"The dwarves. But..." Loki banishes the armor and exchanges it for a low-cut evening gown instead, one Parva has torn off his body many times. Loki always repairs it so that it may be joyfully torn again. "Surely this is better?" 

Doom takes his hip and crushes him to his metal body. Crude, Loki thinks. He smiles and crosses his hands behind Doom's back. How far does the metal extent? Are his organs metal, his blood, his semen? He has to know. 

Loki writhes out of Doom's grasp and reclines on a low couch. "I think we have nothing more to discuss. I know you; you know me. Let us seal our alliance with a child." He spreads his legs. 

As an afterthought, he shifts his genitals fully female, right before Doom tears away his dress. 

Doom fondles his breasts. "Take care," Loki says. "I am a nursing mother." He covers his nipples with his hands so that he does not spray Doom. 

"Nursing impedes fertility," Doom says. He seems to frown, but Loki isn't quite sure. His inability to read Doom is problematic. 

"I possess great magic. I can ensure a child catches." Loki wraps his legs around Doom's hips. He braces himself and, ah, ah, Doom penetrates him with his metal penis. Loki grunts, trying to make it sound like passion. 

The man knows nothing of the art of lovemaking. Loki lubricates himself to ease the passage. He rides the discomfort, letting it feed his magic, and reaches out. 

He finds Reed's mind, nova-bright and focused on Sue, but he cannot find a way to send him a message. Vexing. And there is Stark...no, there is Stark's empty armor. 

Loki does not care to continue entertaining Doom. The man is a boor, rutting himself to completion with no regard for his partner. 

There is the obvious solution. And Doom is ejaculating. Loki hates himself for it, but he finds Mjolnir with his mind and leaves Thor a trace to come find him. 

He is weak. He shoves Doom off his body and scowls at himself in annoyance. "Did the child catch?" Doom asks. 

"Of course not. Why would I want to spawn with such an uncouth fool?" Loki fingers his cunt to allay his curiosity. Only semen! No quicksilver, no new strange alloy, just human semen. Loki scowls at Doom. 

Doom snarls. His teeth are white in his iron-toned face. He raises his fist to Loki and Loki backhands him off the couch. "I fucked you for my pleasure and you provided less than expected," Loki says. He returns to his half-male form and summons his armor. 

"Whore!" 

Loki takes Doom by the neck and hauls him upright. "By your tone, I believe you mean to insult me. I am well accustomed to that manner of insult. It should roll off me by now, don't you think? And yet you irk me." His hand glows. "That is a mistake." 

Doom raises his hands, summoning electricity, but Loki banishes the current with a thought. Doom is a primitive creature. Loki will use a primitive solution. He punches Doom in the face. 

Doom sags, unconscious. Loki drops him on the floor. 

He tires of this place. He opens the door and Ben Grimm stands there, fist upraised. "Hey," he says. 

"Hello," Loki says. 

"Came to rescue you." 

"I am quite capable of rescuing myself." 

Ben looks over Loki's shoulder. "Sue said he was getting fresh with you." 

"Indeed not. I got fresh with him." Loki changes out of his armor into his work uniform of boots, jeans, and sweater, which makes Ben blink. "Let's go." He palms a fine dagger on the way out, sliding it up his sleeve.

They walk past Doom's fallen henchmen and up onto deck, where--

"Brother!" Thor blindsides him and embraces him. Mjolnir bumps painfully against his side. "Are you unharmed? I will break every bone in Doom's body for this insult!"

"You have harmed me worse with your embrace than Doom harmed me with his insults," Loki says, pulling away.

"Eris! Oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you--" That is Sue, flitting into the air to kiss his cheek. "Franklin is fine. I can't believe you did that."

"Did what?" Stark asks. All of the Avengers, plus the Fantastic Four, plus SHIELD, plus agents labeled FBI are milling about the deck. It is very crowded.

"Seduced Doom to distract him," Sue says. 

"He was a fool to think he could snatch Susan with impunity," Loki says. 

"Oh, he was expecting us. He's just a _punk_ who cannot handle the Avengers," Stark says. "So what, you got freaky with Doom?"

"Oh yes. There may be another bun in the oven." Loki pats his stomach and grins.

"WHAT?" 

Lightning strikes. _Thor._

"I SHALL SMEAR HIS SKULL ACROSS THE OCEAN DEPTHS," Thor swears. Thunder rolls across the sea. 

"Fuck OFF, Thor!" Loki shouts back. 

"Tell me he did not dishonor you!" 

"He did not dishonor me," Loki says, and Thor relaxes. "He only fucked me." 

Thor pulls at his hair. "O my brother! I shall avenge you."

"Stop calling me brother!" Loki says. Once again a triumph is overshadowed by Thor and his boasts and his threats and his honor. He has had _enough_ of Thor and his damned honor. "What's it to you if I fucked him or didn't? Do you forget I fucked a horse? My chastity was thoroughly wrenched from my body that day." 

Thor reddens. Loki supposes he is ashamed. Good. 

"I will be as gay or as female or as _freakish_ as I please. Kill him or don't, but do not dare use me as an excuse for your actions," Loki says. "I do not need or desire your protection." He throws an energy bolt and knocks Thor into the sea. 

The other Avengers fish Thor out, of course. Loki spends the rest of the boat trip creating small icebergs to smash against the hull. 

Romanov sidles up beside him and watches the ice. "You wanted to see what Doom was packing, didn't you?" she asks. 

Loki smiles with half his mouth and nods. 

"So?" 

"Uncomfortable metal penis, ordinary human semen. Wholly disappointing." 

She snorts. 

"There are no more secrets to be pried from my mind," Loki says. The next iceberg he creates is in the shape of Mjolnir. "My history and character are laid bare. Why are you speaking to me?" 

"I don't have an ulterior motive." 

"Please, that is a feeble lie." 

"I don't look back," Romanov says. "My history isn't any cleaner than yours. Now you don't have my friend enslaved, you're pretty fun." 

"Mm-hm."

"I like my fun with a little danger, sure." She crosses her arms and leans against the rail. She nods at someone; Loki looks, and Barton emerges from the crowd. 

"What's up?" Barton greets them. 

"Bruises on my vulva. Doom ranks very low as a lover." 

Romanov winces. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like a Casanova." 

"Wait--you took a beating from the Hulk and Doom still bruised you? I would have thought you could kegel his dick off," Barton says. 

"A pleasing thought," Loki says. "I shall remember that." 

"Always ride a partner you don't really trust. If he tries anything, you can snap his dick with your pelvic bone," Romanov advises. 

Loki grins. He turns and leans against the railing with Romanov, which brings Thor into his view. He stops smiling. 

"So, hey, we can't keep Doom here because of diplomatic immunity. Is kidnapping illegal in Asgard?" Barton asks. 

"If I return to bring the charge against him, it is, but then Odin would return me to prison in my turn. I spent eighty-six years in mind-numbing labor. I refuse." 

"Damn."

"Here he comes," Romanov says. Doom climbs up from the belly of the ship flanked by two SHIELD agents. 

He looks at Loki. "Slut," he says. "You are unworthy of my attentions." 

Loki really has had enough of being told he's unworthy. He crosses the deck in a few enormous strides, summoning his knives into his hands as he goes, and throws six inches of uru metal into Doom's sneering mouth. 

Doom flinches, but when he closes his teeth, the knife bends. 

Loki duplicates himself twenty times over. He manipulates the water in the air to form ice and blinds Doom. Doom in his turn gathers electricity into his hands. 

Thor raises Mjolnir and draws away the electricity. "Apologize to my brother, scum!" Thor yells. 

"Brother?" Doom says. 

"Yes, I am a man," Loki says, turning himself into a snake. "You're now gay. How does it feel?" 

Doom roars wordlessly with anger. Loki coils himself around Doom and pulls them both overboard. 

Doom struggles, but Loki is gathering mass from the water and making himself ever denser. He is immune to Doom's electrical shocks. It is time Doom learns who is the master here. 

He swallows Doom and keeps sinking. He smiles to feel Doom punching and kicking in his stomach like one of his children. Loki has insulated his stomach with magic, though, and Doom has no effect. 

When he sinks to the bottom of the sea, he sits, he concentrates, and in time, he shits Doom out. 

He grins at the little metal man. He flicks his tail and returns to the surface as quick as thought. 

The ship is long gone, of course, but he knows the way home. He sniffs the air and points himself toward New York. It doesn't take long to swim home. He feels foul, though, when he hauls himself out of the water at Coney Island, even after he conjures himself fresh clothing and hails a cab to take him to the Baxter Building. Perhaps he is still bruised. 

He finds his cell phone in the pocket with his spare clothing and calls Parvati. 

"Girlie! Oh my god, are you okay?" 

"I am fine. I'm in a cab," Loki says. 

"Thor said you jumped off a boat with Doctor Doom!" 

"I did." 

"We have triplets, asshole! Don't go being a hero!" 

Loki laughs. "I was not. Do not worry, love. I am well and I will be home soon." 

"Okay. Oh my god, I about had a heart attack. I'm going to beat you and kiss you when you get back." 

"I look forward to both," Loki says, and he says his goodbyes. 

"My man, there is no use telling wives not to worry about you," the cab driver says. He stops at a red light. "They will worry." 

"My first wife and my second wife both love our children more than me." 

"That's nature! It doesn't mean she doesn't love you. Husbands versus children, though, oy, there is no contest. What, do you think there should be?" 

Loki considers. "No. Children are magic." 

"Children are helpless," the cab driver counters. "They must be cared for. You can care for your fool self. Am I right? Have you been a fool?" 

"Indeed not," Loki says. 

The driver laughs. "Yes you have! Young men are always fools." 

"I'm not as young as I look," Loki says, but he's thinking of Laufey's words. _You're nothing but a boy._ It was true of Thor. Is it true of him? Is he yet a man? He is a thousand years old, but Odin's youngest brother has over twenty thousand years and is only now beginning to decline. 

Laufey was terribly perceptive in the few minutes Loki knew him. He wonders what Laufey saw when he looked at Loki. 

*

Loki slides through the walls of the world to bring them immediately home. He wants a shower and a bath. He has learned to appreciate hot water. 

Parva puts the children to bed while he soaks. She is an able helpmate. He should marry her, he thinks. 

She joins him in the bathroom. "Your thighs," she says. 

"The bruises will fade." 

"But what happened?" 

"Doom." 

"Holy shit, girlie, did he--?" 

"I had sex with him," Loki says. "It was unsatisfying, but there is no need for outrage." 

She frowns. "Okay. What about me being outraged at you cheating on me with some jerk?" 

"Cheating?" 

"Yeah, bonking someone else, that's cheating," Parva says. 

"Ah." Loki rubs the fading marks on his thighs. 

"Seriously? Ah?" 

"We don't think of things the same way in Asgard. I make you promises of my life and wealth, not my body, which is ever mine to use as I see fit." 

"And you can have meaningless sex with whoever." 

"So can you." 

"I don't want to have sex with random jerks." 

"Then there is no problem," Loki says. 

"No, the problem is you have Doctor Doom spooge on you! Did you even use a condom?" 

"I pretended I wanted his child," Loki says. 

"You could have some crazy virus!" 

"I really couldn't. We're not the same species."

"Are you even listening to me?" 

"I am listening! But I have been lectured enough by my brother and by you. It is known by all that Loki is a whore who freely spreads his legs for men! I acknowledge it and I do not intend to stop! Now leave me to bathe!" Loki flings the door open with a wave of his hand. It bounces off the wall, quivering in the frame. 

"Fuck you," Parva says. She slams the door behind her. 

Loki shifts to his Jotun form spitefully and the water freezes into slush around him. He slides down under the water, knees stuck foolishly above the cold water. This tub is far too small. He hates it. 

He scrubs Doom off his skin and pulls the plug, leaving the half-slush to melt. He towels himself dry but does not dress. He collapses onto the floor in the main room. 

The house is too warm. Condensation gathers on his hard, cold skin. He is so very glad his sons' Jotun ancestry does not show. They pass for mutant, rather than being monsters like Fenrir, Jormungandr...himself. Loki splays his claws before his eyes. He is garish and inelegant. 

He transforms back into himself. His stomach is curdled. He picks himself up and finds Parva in their bedroom, still clothed and lying in bed. He waits in the doorway to see if she throws anything at him; when she doesn't, he ventures into the bed and curls up on his side. 

"You're cold," she says. 

"Yes. I froze the water in my bath." 

"Why?" 

"I am a spiteful creature." 

"Jackass," Parva says. 

Loki squirms into her warmth. She shivers when he touches her hip. "Come on, girlie boy," she says, and she gathers up his hands.

"I will not apologize," Loki says. 

"Quit it. I'm processing." 

"I do regret it," Loki says. 

"Was it any good?" 

"Not at all." 

"That shouldn't make me feel better, but it does," Parva says. She twines her fingers with Loki's between their breasts. "I feel like you could just walk away at any moment." 

"No." 

"But that's what I feel like. Don't invalidate me." 

Loki frowns. "I don't know what that word means in this context." 

"Don't tell me how I feel." 

"Ah." 

"And I won't tell you how you feel. How do you feel?" 

"How I feel?" He runs his thumbs over her fingers. "Tired." 

"Come on. This is a lesbian relationship. You have to talk about your feelings, it's mandatory."

"Men of Asgard are supposed to feel glee at victory, shame at defeat, and anger at our enemies. Anything further is womanly." 

Parva slides her thigh between his legs. "You're not a man of Asgard any more." 

"No." He rubs against her thigh slowly. 

"I'm not okay with you fucking other people. I can deal with this one time, but you have to know that for the future." 

Loki looks in her eyes. "I understand." 

"For real? I'm gone if this happens again," Parva says. She pulls back and holds up her hands. "I'm serious." 

"This may be a problem if I am called to work a great magic. Sex is an integral part of my power." 

"We can talk about it." 

Loki nods.

"Okay?" 

"Deal," Loki says.


	9. Chapter 9

With the money from Richards safe in his vault, Loki takes the rest of the year off.

He spends his time reading. He discovers that Midgard literature is far richer than that of Asgard, where nothing ever happens. 

Parva, meanwhile, takes up with a number of women's groups and political action groups and is constantly budgeting for donations. "Ready to work yet?" she asks. 

"No. I'm reading African colonial literature." 

"What, all of it?" 

"Yes." 

"Fine," she grumbles. "I'm going to my West Coast Desi group." She leans down and kisses him. 

She also goes to a queer parent support group and frequently presses him to join her. "You're not making any friends except for Reed," she says. 

"I do not need friends. I have the children and no time for anyone else." 

"Have you ever had friends? Ever? People who like you and want to be with you just because?" There's an odd note in her voice. 

No. He had Thor's friends, and then he had people he met who were later enchanted by Thor. "Of course," Loki says. 

"Come on, girlie, let's go. You need to know more queers." She takes Loki's hand and tugs.

Loki growls but lets himself be pulled to his feet. 

They walk slowly, Una sleepy in the stroller and the twins ranging across the sidewalk, herded by Loki and Parva. "What is he doing on the ladder?" Narfi asks, pointing to a painter. 

"He's painting the wall," Parva says. 

"Why?" 

"Isn't it prettier when it's painted?" 

"Yes," Narfi says. 

"That's why." 

Vali is crouched on the cement. "There's grass, Mummy." 

"There is." 

"Why is there grass?" 

"Because there is earth under the cement. The power of earth and sun is far stronger than manmade materials." 

"Why?" 

"Because it is so," Loki says. 

"But why can't there be forever sidewalks?" 

"Nothing made by man can last longer than the celestial strength of suns," Loki says. 

"Why?" 

"Because it is so. Come, we cannot sit here forever." Loki holds out his hand. Vali takes it reluctantly and runs, while Loki walks, to catch up with Parva and the other children. 

Vali lets go of Loki's hand in favor of Narfi's. The boys look at each other soberly. They are interrupted by a mutant who snatches Loki up by the neck and holds him in front of his body. Loki clings to his fist by instinct, wincing. 

"Let me go unless you want this cunt gutted," the mutant snarls. He's addressing Northstar and Aurora, who land before him. Loki recognizes them easily as the twin members of Alpha Flight.

"Knock it off, Sabretooth! You know you're going to lose!" Aurora says. 

Loki is taller than Sabretooth, he realizes. He plants his feet and stands. Then he slams both hands backward. 

When his hands connect, Sabretooth freezes into a statue. Loki steps out of his grasp. He looks at the iced man and slips his blue hands into his jacket pockets to warm up. 

"I suspect that didn't kill him," Loki says. He can feel the frozen heart struggling to beat.

Northstar and Aurora step up beside him. "Nice," Northstar says. "We'll take him from here. What's your name?" 

"Eris Wolf, magic worker," Loki says. He returns to Parva. 

"I almost peed myself," she says. She holds Una up to hug his neck. The twins hug his legs. 

"I was never in any danger from such a creature," Loki says. "Clearly I am not destined to attend your support group, though." He arches his eyebrows. 

"Fuck destiny. We're going." 

The group meeting is held in the local Unitarian temple. It is mostly female, some four men to eleven women. Loki counts himself in neither tally. There are eight children in attendance before Loki's three, ranging from one year to six. The oldest child takes a solemn interest in the younger children and admonishes them to play nicely. She is the ultimate arbiter of every complaint. Loki is reminded of Sif. 

"Hi! So you're Parvati's boyfriend? That's great! We're a very safe space," a woman says as she descends on Loki. "My name is Sarah and I'm the facilitator today." 

Loki bites his tongue before he remembers his manners. "Thank you, Sarah. I am pleased to accompany Parva today." 

*

[moar!]

*

There is a great storm outside. The children are fretful. Una put on her new tutu and Vali immediately ripped it with his romping, so she is inconsolable; she is sobbing into Parva's lap on the couch while Loki puts Vali in the naughty corner for being so cavalier with his sister's fancies. Narfi declared that he wanted to go outside and play naked in the rain, and he was allowed to do so--he is half frost giant, chill is not his enemy--but then he came in and complained about being wet and that there were worms everywhere and it was nasty.

"I want to play in nice rain, Mommy!"

"There is only one kind of rain. That's four minutes, Henry, you may stand."

Vali stands. "Is the tutu mine now?"

"NO!" Una screams. "It's still mine!"

Loki frowns. "Ruining something belonging to your sister does not mean it becomes yours!" He remembers, suddenly, the fit of covetousness that led him to cut off Sif's golden hair when they were both young. If this has been passed down to his son, he would not have peace for the next thousand years.

"But sometimes the rain is better rain," Narfi says from his spot in the window. "Why can't you make it better rain with your magic?"

"Why can't you magic the tutu better?" Vali asks.

"I will repair the tutu," Loki says. He reaches out with his magic and re-knits what was torn. "It is done."

"Then it's better and I wasn't naughty!"

"You were still naughty and still need to apologize to your sister," Loki says. "Be thankful that I did not require you to repair it yourself."

"Now fix the rain, Mommy!" Narfi says.

"I cannot fix the rain. Rain is necessary to the planet." In truth, he could stop it raining, but he is too weary, and besides, he thinks such a large expenditure of magic would bring a visit from Alpha Flight to inquire.

"It can still be rain, just better rain," Narfi says.

"Hilly. Listen to your mom," Parva says.

"Do you want to hear a story?" Loki offers.

"No," Narfi says. "I want to play in the rain."

"No," Vali says.

"I want to do my dance now," Una says. "Watch me do my dance!"

Loki sits on the couch beside Parva. Narfi crawls from the window to the back of the couch and sits on his shoulders. "I'll help," Vali says.

"No! It's my dance!"

"I can lift you!" Vali says. He seizes Una by the waist with both pairs of hands.

"NO!"

"Henry, let go!" Parva says, but of course it is too late; Una struggles and the tutu is torn again. Una screeches and hits him in the face with her little fists. "Una, stop hitting!"

"Stupid! Stupid!"

"Why did you wiggle, you ruined it!"

Parva and Loki both get up from the couch to stop the fight--and there is a crash as Loki straightens up, and a wail by his ear. He has forgotten Narfi on his shoulders and knocked over the lamp with his arm.

Narfi sobs from shock. Fortunately there is no blood. The lampshade was not heavy. "I am sorry, my dear son," Loki murmurs, cradling him to his chest. Meanwhile, Parva sends Vali back to the naughty corner while Una melts down in the middle of the room. She sets the egg timer for four minutes again.

"I didn't do anything wrong, I was helping!" Vali protests. "I wasn't bad!"

"Una said no! See how upset she is!"

"Because she's a girl," Vali says, sticking out his tongue.

"Vali!" Loki and Parva say together.

At which point there is a knock on the door. Loki is standing, so he gets it, Narfi still sobbing in his ear. It's not a hurt cry, just a deeply disappointed cry that the day has been so terrible. Loki agrees whole-heartedly.

At the door, of course, is Thor, Mjolnir in hand.

And Stark, in his armor.

And Captain America, as golden and polished as Draupnir, the golden ring.

"Can this wait?" Loki asks.

"What has happened to cause so much despair?" Thor asks. He remembers then that he is not supposed to speak to Loki, and covers his hand with his mouth.

"Mommy hit me with a lamp. I have a boom," Narfi says, offering his arm as proof. There is, of course, no mark. Una is wailing wordlessly, as is Vali, punctuated by kicks to the wall of the naughty corner. This is his favored technique.

"I hit a lamp with you," Loki corrects. "And I am very sorry that I wasn't careful."

"Henry wasn't careful and he tore Nay's skirt," Narfi says.

"Oh wow," Stark says. "Bad day."

"Who is it?" Parva calls. "Broken lamp!"

"Damn. Oh, come in. Hillary, be good and stay on the stairs while I clean up the lamp so you aren't cut."

"Okay, I be good," Narfi agrees. His calm boy.

He ignores the screams of the other two for the moment. They're not hurt, just angry. The standing lamp is lying across the floor, the shade broken, glass shards everywhere. Loki touches the base and the shards seek their home.

"Ooh, magic mommy!" Narfi says from the stairs. His good boy.

Loki rights the lamp. Una's screams have subsided to sobs again, so he kneels beside her. "Nay-nay, do you want a hug?"

She nods. He picks her up. He sits against the couch and cradles her.

"We love you even when you're naughty," Parva is saying to Vali. His bold, heedless boy. He will be a mighty warrior.

Loki rests his head against the couch cushions and closes his eyes.

"Shit!" Parva yelps. "Eris! Fucking Tony Stark, warn me!"

"Parva, visitors," Loki says without opening his eyes. Una giggles on his lap.

"Also Thor and Captain America," Narfi says. "Are you allowed to be Captain America in Canada?"

"Well--yes, I'm Captain America anywhere," Rogers says.

"Good point, though. Isn't this like an invasion if you show up in uniform?" Parva says. She kicks Loki's leg. "Defend your country."

Loki opens his eyes a slit. "No."

"I'm informing immigration."

"Mm. I guess we'll have to move to Muspelheim," Loki says, and Thor laughs, because he's the only one who knows that Muspelheim is the realm of the fire demons.

He did not mean to make an inside joke. Damn Thor anyway.

"So, this is all great, but we actually came by to give you a nice surprise," Stark says. "Pack up the kids and let's go. Jet's waiting."

"Go where?" Narfi asks.

"Go?" Vali asks.

"I don't want to go!" Una says. She begins to sob again.

"It really is important, and you really do want to come, Loki," Rogers says. He shines with golden sincerity.

"I want to go!" Vali says. He has bolted out of the naughty corner, of course, and now he stands by Loki's side and tugs at his hand. "Mommy!"

"No," Una wails.

"Is it really important enough that you want to get in a jet with three kids at the end of their tether?" Parva asks.

"Want, no. But it's a matter of honor for the big guy here, so we're manning up. Nannying up."

Honor? Loki looks at Thor. "Jormungandr?" he asks, almost afraid to speak the name. 

"I knew this could not be kept from you! You are far too clever," Thor says. "Yes! I have found him!" 

"Okay, okay, coats? Do we need a change of clothes?" Parva asks. 

"Coats, yes. He's the Arctic Circle," Stark says. "Not in the Arctic Circle. He is the Arctic Circle. Impressive kid." 

"He's waiting for you in the Beaufort Sea," Rogers says. "He's...too big to fit through the Bering Strait. Very big boy." 

Loki is grinning. He can feel himself. 

"How long will it take to get there?" Parva asks. 

"It's two thousand miles as the crow flies, give or take, so...about an hour. Give or take. And most of that is getting out of civilian air space without hitting anyone."

*

Loki runs his hand over Vali and Narfi's sleeping backs. The boys are sitting on the couch to either side of him, both slumped into his lap. 

Thor sits across from him, eager and awaiting. 

"Fenrir, what news there?" Loki asks. 

Thor's face grows solemn. "I asked Father to relent, but he was clear. All the prophecies and farseers say that when Fenrir is released, Ragnarok will begin. He has forbidden me from removing him from his cave. If I disobey him, he will make war upon us and all that stand with us. All of Midgard if need be." 

Ice stabs his heart. It would be easier to bear if his son were simply dead. 

"I cannot stand against Odin All-Father and all the ranks of Asgard," Thor says. 

Of course he cannot. Loki cannot either. 

"I visited Fenrir," Thor says. "He attacked me and I was not able to speak with him. I told him that I was his uncle, but he would not listen." 

Loki bows his head. "Half measures," he says. "Always half measures. He bites because he is a feral child, grown in solitude. And so I have only half my children, and you have fulfilled only half your quest." 

Thor bows his head. 

Loki looks at Parva, watching him with wise brown eyes. He brushes his thumbs over the long, curling hair of his sons. He considers Thor challenging his father for the sake of honor and family, not glory and accolade. "But you may call me sister," he says. 

Thor raises his head. "Sister?" 

"That is half of me. Eris, your sister. Citizen of Canada, not Asgard. Mother of three, not six. And...the boys are turning five next month. You may come to their birthday party." 

"Sister," Thor says. "Sister, I shall!" He launches himself out of his seat and embraces Loki's neck. 

"I am presenting them to their biological father and a large retinue can't hurt," Loki says, but this is the tiniest fraction of the truth. He puts his arms around Thor's massive shoulders for the first time in many years.


	10. Chapter 10

[Loki is outed as Loki, public outcry demands his capture, he cannot escape without risking the kids, so he doesn't]

*

They transfer him to SHIELD custody at the border, which means a lot of men in black jumpsuits, Fury, Romanov, and Barton all standing around trying to look dangerous. Loki is too tired to be impressed.

A lot of words pass around him, and then Romanov says, "Wake up."

"What more do you need?" Loki asks. "I am here, am I not?"

"Part of intake is a strip search. Do you want a male or female agent to perform it?"

"I honestly could not care less," Loki says, and vanishes his clothes with a sigh. "Look your fill."

He does note that Fury's eye drops immediately to his breasts. Romanov looks lower; well, she is more or less breast-height anyway. "Damn, put it away," Barton says, looking at the ceiling. "I don't need any confusing sex dreams."

"So much for the magic-proof cuffs," Romanov says.

Oh. She was looking at his wrists. Oops. Loki clears his throat and retrieves his clothes, the cuffs with them.

"I think I'm going to search you while we rustle up some stronger cuffs," Romanov says.

"Owned again. Why is it always you?"

In the "private" room--still monitored by cameras; the illusion of privacy is no privacy at all--she says, "You have a glass face. You can't hide anything. I'm a little surprised they call you the Lie-smith. More like a lie apprentice."

Her words have no sting. "I lost a bit of panache when I lost my title, family and birthright and fell through empty space for six months," Loki says. "It seems I'm not getting it back."

"That happens," Romanov says. "Take the cuffs off before you strip this time."

"In fact, I can't unlock them, only banish them. You will need to take them off me if you want them back." He offers his wrists. He's telling the truth, and he's sure she can see it.

"So it's like a traveling walk-in closet? Do you have anything you want in there?" She unlocks the cuffs.

"Only what I've put there. My armor. A lot of Asgard court wear. A business suit which doesn't fit this body... An evening dress my girlfriend favors. Little hand towels for the babies when they vomit on me, though I haven't needed those for some time." And will not again for a longer time, a thought which steals his breath.

"You're pale," Romanov says. "Sit down."

He sits. "How long do terrorism sentences last?" he asks. He feels dizzy.

"Head between your knees. I can't carry you if you faint."

He folds over at her urging. Life sentence, he thinks for a sickening moment. Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren watching him locked up in here--

But no. He has not had one of Idunn's apples in five years. He has a gray hair. He will age and die and join his daughter in Hel. He exhales, feeling better.

"So that's why you're doing this. The kids," Romanov says. She squats in front of him, looking at his face.

Loki nods.

"It matters what they think of you, so you're doing the right thing. Wow."

"I will not be my father," Loki says. "None dare challenge him because he has the biggest spear, but that does not make his actions correct. Not all of them. He is known as the wisest man in the nine realms because he has proclaimed himself to be so. I could walk out of this stronghold and build myself a castle in the sky, but I cannot stop my sons from growing up and seeing my misdeeds. So I am here. You could hold me with a cobweb."

He meets her eyes as she reads the truth of him. "Okay," she says.

"But we must observe protocol. Shall I banish my clothes again or do you prefer a striptease?"

Romanov stands and so does he. "Protocol. Hand me your shirt," she says.

She searches his clothes one piece at a time. When she comes to his phone, she pages through the photographs. "We can print these out for you, for your walls," she says.

"Yes, please."

*

Loki cares not for the details of his sentence. He lets the lawyer argue for him. He is more interested in the fate of Parvati and their children. "We need to get Parvati custody of your children. Fastest way is to marry and adopt," Nelson says. "Canada will recognize an American wedding. Will Asgard?"

"The Asgardian ritual is simple. We need only witnesses and a bed. As long as Thor is a witness, the All-Father will recognize the marriage."

"Okay. Wait, a bed?"

"Or a couch. Floor is undignified. The bedding must be witnessed, if not the full act."

"Okay. Little cultural difference there, but okay, I'll see how fast I can get this arranged. I'm hoping tomorrow."

Loki nods numbly.

In the morning, Nelson arrives to escort him to Baxter Tower to wed. Parvati greets him in a gorgeous red sari and, surprisingly, a fine gold headdress draped over her hair. It looks like something his mother might wear. "Present from your brother," Parva says, and kisses him. "We had a talk about Asgard weddings versus Indian weddings. He's crushed there isn't going to be an elephant."

"So am I," Loki manages. For all that this wedding arises as nothing more than a formality, he finds himself moved. "This is a paltry affair. I am truly sorry. You deserve better."

"Keeping hold of the varlets is more important than elephants," she says. "go get dressed."

Loki wonders if she means his armor until Nelson escorts him upstairs and Romanov is waiting with a rack of clothes. "There's a bunch of options," she says. "Asgardian court clothes courtesy of Thor."

"No," Loki says. "I'm not truly of the Aesir."

"Okay. Tuxedo. Basic fancy male human outfit."

"I'm not male," Loki says.

"White dress, Vera Wang, you would look like a queen."

"I'm not female either." Loki cuts his eyes at her. Why would she do this?

"Thierry Mugler. This one you have to try on."

Loki does. The chains have been removed from the shackles, so he is magically restrained without being physically restrained.

"You're shaped more or less like a fashion model, so this should look great." She helps him sort out what fabric piece goes in what place. When she declares him finished, he looks in the mirror.

He is wearing high-waisted white trousers and a cylindrical white fur stole around his shoulders, attached by a zipper that runs from neck to groin. He wears a transparent black gauze shirt underneath, which highlights the hard masculine lines of his shoulders and neck. The look is both male and female, just as he is. It is exactly right.

Romanov stands on a stool and combs out his hair. "Braids or loose?" she asks.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I like shopping. I want to make sure there's no problem with custody of your kids. I want to see your wedding." She shrugs. There's a softness to her gaze that's probably a lie. "I breezed through fifteen Fifth Avenue stores with Tony Stark's black card. It was fantastic."

For a moment he wants to reject this false kindness, knock her on her back, and rip the rack of clothes to shreds. But...this is his wedding day, a contract with the mother of his children, and what truer reflection of his life on Midgard than that a master assassin is attending to his hair? He smiles at their reflection. It is too absurd. "Half up in a knot," Loki says. "The back loose."

"You got it."

[rest of the ceremony]

*

"Welcome to the Vault," the guard says. He presses a button and a shimmering force field erupts across the cell. "Because you voluntarily surrendered to police, you start out at a higher level of privileges. You have an opaque partition in front of your sanitary facilities. You have sheets and blankets on the bed. You have a window. You have library privileges on the ereader provided. You have visitation privileges once a week. On the wall is your communication unit with television, radio, and telephone. Quiet hours from 10pm to 7am. Breakfast at 8, lunch at noon, dinner at 6pm. Rules and privilege levels are available on a document on your ereader. I suggest you read them immediately. Do you have any questions?"

"What is your name?" Loki asks.

"Officer Alvarez."

"Thank you, Officer Alvarez. You have been courteous and efficient."

The guard nods. "Be good to me and I'll be good to you. Follow any orders given and you'll be fine. Use of powers is a major infraction. You are being monitored even when you can't see us."

"A motto for life," Loki says.

"Ain't it just. Any other questions?"

"Am I ever allowed out of my cell?"

"Only for visitation. Pull-up bars and other exercise equipment are available at a higher privilege level."

"I see. I am pregnant," Loki says.

The guard raises his eyebrows. "My paperwork says male."

"It's complicated. I assure you I am pregnant. I have given birth before."

Alvarez glances at his stomach. "Well, you're not giving birth today, right?"

"No. Approximately eight months from now."

"I'll check with the warden. We...never had a pregnant inmate before. Huh."

Loki smiles. "Thank you, Officer Alvarez."

"Okay. Hit the comm unit if you need anything. It's three hours until dinnertime. Get settled in." He nods and walks down the hallway.

Loki looks at his neighbors. The cells are set on either side of a long hallway, so he has one cell directly across from him and two others he can see on an angle. He is near the end of the hallway. There are two more cells on his side before the end of the hall on his left.

The cell across from him holds a very attractive white man. The cell at an angle to his left seems to be empty. The cell on an angle to his right holds a man in a parka. "Hel-loo, gorgeous," the man across from Loki says. "The name's Jamie. Jamie Madrox. I am _so_ glad you're going to be my cellie."

Loki grins. "The view could be worse," he says. 

"I know who you are. You're Loki. A god. What are you doing down here with the plebes?"

Loki spreads his hands. "I am in prison."

"Come on. You voluntarily surrendered, what's up with that?" Madrox sits astride his desk chair, arms folded on the back, rocking on two legs.

"Mustn't balance on two legs like that. You'll fall."

Madrox slams back onto four legs. "Thanks, mom."

"I have two five-year-olds and a six-year old. It is second nature. And that's why I'm here," Loki says. "So that they may look to me as a moral model."

"Dang. That sounds like a wife talking."

"It is my wife talking, but she's right."

"Yeah," Madrox says. "After a year of this, see if you feel the same way. Take me with you when you break out, okay?"

Loki tilts his head. "For the scenery?"

"Of course!"

Loki smiles with half his mouth and finds the promised ereader. Of course it's Stark Industries. The edges are padded to make it more difficult to use as a weapon. Still, though, the cell is remarkably comfortable. It doesn't even smell. Asgard prisons cannot boast as much.

He finds the privileges document. Disobeying commands is a demerit, using powers is a demerit, not staying clean is a demerit, verbal arguments with fellow prisoners are a demerit subject to warden review. Tampering with cell equipment is a demerit, not recycling bedding in the laundry receptacle is a demerit, not returning plates and silver is a demerit--

Laundry and meals are taken care of in the cell, he realizes. He will never leave this cell except for visitations.

For a long moment, he feels the walls. He stands and looks out the window. There is nothing to see but cold ocean. 

"Sinking in, isn't it?" Madrox says. "What a mistake this was." 

He promised Parvati his common sense. She promised him ethics. He made a promise and received a vow. 

He looks at the pictures of his sons and he recovers. 

*

To Loki's left is Arclight, a shockwave-wielding woman who constantly works out. He learns her routine quickly. Morning consists of jogging in place and jumping jacks. Afternoon consists of grunting. He suspects she is doing crunches and pushups, but hopes she is masturbating. 

Across from Arclight is Mystique, or so he is told. She has no privileges at all, not even a bed. Her mattress lies on the floor. Her cell is in perpetual shadow because her window is closed off. Loki has not actually seen her yet. 

Across from Loki, of course, is Jamie Madrox. He makes eyes at Loki near-constantly.

To the right of Madrox is Blizzard, who is awaiting trial. He is a small man in a parka who mutters to himself and ignores Loki. 

To Loki's right is Mysterio. "You don't have powers," Loki says. 

"I have powers! I am Mysterio! I shrank Spider-Man! I flummoxed the Fantastic Four!" 

"The warden has been trying to prove he doesn't have powers so he can free up a cell," Madrox says. 

"I'm insulted to share a wall with such a midget of crime," Loki says. 

"I am Mysterio!" 

"SHUT UP or I shall shut your mouth for you!" Loki shouts. 

"Seriously, get used to him, or else you're going to lose it," Madrox says. "You can requisition noise-blocking headphones when you get the next level of privilege. You definitely won't get there if you turn him into a cockroach, much as I would enjoy that, sweet-tits."

Loki breathes deeply. He lifts his chin. "Don't call me that, please." 

"Come on. We're in prison." 

"My wife calls me that. Sugar melons would be acceptable." 

Madrox laughs. 

*

He has a prenatal checkup every four weeks. Dr. Michaels is a cheery, bold woman, a specialist in mutant obstetrics. "It's a growing field. The X-boom--the mutant baby boom, you know? They're all having mutant kids and they all have their own challenges. Someone both male and female is the least of it. One of my patients--well, I shouldn't gossip. You look good. Is the father baseline or mutant?" 

"Normal," Loki says. 

*

Blizzard is removed for trial and does not return. He still has not seen Mystique. 

He showers in the middle of the day and walks out of the cubicle with his towel slung around his hips. He rubs his hand over the gentle slope of his belly, just beginning to swell with the firm presence of his child. 

 

*

He feels the rippling pain at six months. Too early, far too early. He calls for Alvarez immediately.

"I need the doctor now," he says, both hands on his stomach, trying to keep the baby in.

They rush him to the hospital but the pains continue. He can feel his body pressing the baby out, just like normal labor but far too soon. When he reaches the hospital he is nearly fully dilated. "Baby's coming now," Dr. Michaels says. "We'll do everything we can. Don't panic."

Loki is whispering to the child in his belly: Stay, stay, stay. 

"I can't get a heartbeat," a nurse says.

"Loki. We're doing a c-section now. Local anesthetic, do you understand?"

"You may open me with scissors if it will save my child," Loki says. Tears of pain and frustration run from his eyes.

He is rushed into the operating room and his belly is numbed. A nurse by his ear explains every step. They are so intent on his child they don't even remark on his penis, which would be amusing if he weren't terrified.

"What the hell?" a surgeon says.

"Uh," Dr. Michaels says.

The nurse stands and looks.

"Let me guess," Loki says. "It doesn't look human."

"Loki, you grew an egg," Dr Michaels says.

Loki laughs.

"I'm going to call this a win. Baby isn't coming early, baby just needs to...incubate a little. God damn, I knew this pregnancy would be wild. Norris, can you hold and lift the egg while I see to Loki?"

"Let me see if I have a grip. Egg is soft, like a reptile rather than a bird," Norris says. "Grip is good. Extracting."

"An egg," Loki says, and giggles. The nurse wipes his eyes. "I have a horse child, a wolf child, and a snake child, so I suppose this is not unexpected. Even the snake was a live birth, though."

"Weight of the egg, ten pounds four ounces. The egg seems very fluid. I don't think the baby is done forming," Norris says.

"Candle the egg," Loki says, and giggles again.

*


	11. Chapter 11

The doctors consulted each other, the wardens consulted with the doctors, and Loki is allowed to take the egg back to his cell to incubate. 

He grins every time he looks at it. His seventh child, coming to the waking world in the form of an egg. "You have to be kidding me," Madrox says. 

"I am a perverse and unnatural creature," Loki says. 

"What happened? I can't see!" Arclight says over the intercom. 

"I laid an egg," Loki says. 

"A genuine egg. A baby-sized egg. You going to sit on that?" Madrox asks. 

"Of course not. I would never sit on a baby," Loki says. He pulls the towels off his bathroom shelf and the mattress and bedding off his cot and forms a nest in the middle of the floor. The egg fits into the curve of his body, wrapped in a blanket. 

"What do you think is in there?" Madrox asks. 

"I don't know if it's a boy or a girl," Loki asks. 

"Bird, snake, alligator?" 

"Half frost giant, half human. What the baby looks like isn't important." 

"It's a little bit important," Madrox says. 

"You're an idiot, Madrox," says Mystique. She walks to the corner at the front of her cell and catches Loki's eye. "Unnatural creatures are the only creatures worth knowing."

With her ridged blue skin and clawed fingers and feet, she strongly resembles Loki in his native form. He does not like to look at her. "I am reading to the egg. Do you have any requests?" he asks. 

"Stephen King!" Madrox says. 

"Stephenie Meyer," Arclight says. 

"I like Dickens," says Mystique. " _Our Mutual Friend_." 

"Yes," Loki says. "The person of the house, with her back and her legs." 

"Exactly. Or _Nicholas Nickleby_."

"Smike." 

"I have a son," Mystique says. "He has a tail. He is strong and beautiful." 

"I hope this baby has feathers," Loki says. "But her brother's scales are glorious to behold." He kisses the leathery shell of the egg. He finds his ereader and opens it to _Our Mutual Friend_. 

*


	12. Chapter 12

[Bird-baby hatches and goes to live with Parvati]

*

He is called in again. This time, he is taken to Avengers Tower by his brother.

Tony Stark has found some Asgardian armor. It has claimed him, it seems, and has wormed its way under his Iron Man armor and is clinging to his skin. "It won't come off," Stark says. "It broke my damn suit!" He is half-immobilized in misshapen pieces of Iron Man armor. Banner and Romanov are attending to him with chisels and small blowtorches.

"It is Asgardian armor," Thor says, as if Loki has not already seen that.

"I think it is Bor's armor," Loki says, regarding the color and design. "You see the sabretooth claws."

"Bor? But he died many thousands of years ago."

"Who's Bor?" Stark asks. "And does it matter? Seriously? I have things to do here."

"Bor is Thor's grandfather," Loki says. "It is simply curious. I wonder where it has been."

"Why can he not simply command it to obey? I tried to teach him, but it does not obey," Thor asks. 

"He has no seiðr-stjórnir. None of the humans do unless we give it to them." 

"No! Really?" 

"Really," Loki says. 

"But how do they--oh, this explains much, sister," Thor says. He places his hands on his hips and looks thoughtful. 

"What what? What are you talking about? Give them to me!" Stark says. He wiggles his fingers. 

"Thinking it's not that easy," Banner says. He loosens a piece of shoulder armor and pulls it loose from Stark. The Asgardian armor pops up a spike in its place. 

"Seiðr-stjórnir exist in our living cells. The English term is 'midichlorians,'" Loki says. 

Banner drops his chisel and covers his mouth. Romanov pulls out her phone and texts something. "Okay, so what do we need to do?" Stark asks. "Don't tell me I have to be born with them." 

"No," Banner says. "I don't accept this. The prequels are not real." 

"The prequels are excellent. Bigger, brighter, boomier, and 100% more butt jokes," Stark says. 

"We're not having this argument again and midichlorians are not real. I refuse," Banner says. 

"They are real," Loki says. "What is this resistance?"

"I'm out. Don't talk to me. Either of you. I'm sending Cap in; his childhood is safe from this brutality." Bruce stalks out the door. 

"Did Clint translate that for you?" Romanov asks, looking at her phone. She is smiling.

"Yes. It is a correct translation. I have seen the movies." 

She grins and texts again. 

"Hey! I don't want to look like the cover of a Megadeth album forever," Stark says. "Midichlorian me up." 

Captain America enters the room looking puzzled. He stands next to Stark politely. 

"There are three options," Loki says. "Option the first is to convince Odin to give you one of Idunn's apples..." 

"He will not," Thor says. "Besides, the way is closed. The Bifrost is not yet repaired." 

"No. Option the second is to travel to Asgard and petition Odin to remove the armor." 

"Which he would do, but the way is closed...could you transport him, sister?" 

"I could, if the shackles were released, and I could be trusted to go and return, and the guards of Asgard would not kill me on sight, and Odin would not return me to the dwarf mine for the remainder of my sentence. I think not. Fortunately, there is a third option." 

"Shoot," Stark says. 

"Have sex with me."

Romanov laughs aloud and texts furiously. "Hold on there," the Captain says. 

"Oh, I see. Yes, that would work," Thor says. 

"Explain," Stark says. 

"Midichlorians are passed from mother to child in the womb, first and foremost, but may also be transmitted through milk, blood, or sexual fluids. A year ago I would have been nursing, but now my breasts are sadly dry," Loki says. "Blood is risky; I do not believe Asgardian blood types are compatible with humans." 

"They are not, madam," Stark's ghost says. 

"So you must ingest my semen. Or Thor's." 

Thor jerks back. "No! He is male, sister! He is my comrade in arms! I am in a relationship with the Lady Jane Foster!" 

Loki spreads his hands. "You see. But I am a noted bisexual slut and have no objections to giving you the ass-pounding you are so clearly gagging for."

"Thor, is he lying?" the Captain asks. "Is this really how it works? Because this sounds like a prank." 

"Loki is not lying," Thor says. 

"So I fuck Loki and get magical powers?" Stark asks. "Seriously? I'm in."

"Tony--" the Captain says. 

"What, do you want to stay and spot me? Even if it doesn't work, I get to fuck Loki. I'm in." 

"I kind of do want to stay and spot you. This is how he got out of the dwarf prison," the Captain says.

"I'm not trying to get out of prison," Loki says. 

"Whatever. I'm doing this. Thor, clear out so I can take your brother's pants off. Cap, stay, I don't care. Natasha, _please_ stay." Stark wiggles his eyebrows. 

Romanov looks at Loki. "I wouldn't mind having magical powers," she says. 

"I'm not giving you my seed. I don't know what you would do with it." 

"Shucks," she says. She walks out, texting, and laughs brightly as she leaves. Thor claps Loki and Stark both on the shoulders and joins her. 

"I am monitoring Loki's activities," Stark's ghost says. 

"I know, Jarvis, but Loki can mess with your sensors and you don't have hands. I'm staying here." The Captain crosses his arms and lifts his chin. "I may not be able to dent the floor with Loki's head but I can at least give him a black eye." 

Loki grins at Stark. Stark grins back. "I love being a ho," Stark says. 

"May I make a phone call first? Not long-distance, I assure you." 

"Sure. Jarvis can dial, just tell him." 

Loki begins to unbutton his green prison shirt. "Parvati Collins at the Baxter Building, please, Jarvis."

"Yes, madam." The telephone rings once and Parva answers. 

"Tony Stark?" she says. 

"It's me, my dear," Loki says. 

"Girlie boy! What's up?" 

"I need to have sex with Stark for the cause of justice." He cannot stop grinning. He throws the shirt onto a chair and peels up his soft, hookless white bra. 

"Awesome," Parva says. "Take pictures." 

"I thought I should notify you before you began, as you have the long-term lease on my genitals. I regret that I will not be able to take pictures." 

"Damn. Can you see the kids before you go?" 

"I hope so," Loki says. "I'm not sure who decides." 

"You can," the Captain says. 

"Ah." Loki turns and smiles at him. He smiles wider when the Captain's eyes jerk firmly upwards. "Thank you. Later, then, Parva." 

"Bang him hard," Parva says, and she hangs up. 

Loki drops his loose trousers and leaves his boots on. The shackles, of course, remain. "Well, then," he says. 

"I can't move my legs. The joints are all jammed by the armor. Damn, you have nice tits," Stark says, stroking his beard. "I always liked tall women. But you're going to have to come up here." 

Loki is a full head taller than Stark, which means that when he crosses the room and goes up on his toes, his breasts are precisely at face height. Stark needs no encouragement to take Loki's waist and bury his face in Loki's cleavage. "The better the sex, the more powerful the transmission of seiðr-stjórnir," Loki says. "Sex charges the magic. All workings are stronger with the addition of sexual energy." 

"Loving this system," Stark says. He mouths Loki's breast, tongue flicking over the dark nipple, and Loki feels his cock rise and bump into the smooth metal of Iron Man's lower half. 

Stark's hands are covered in gloves, or Loki would put his fingers in his mouth; instead, he combs his hands through Stark's hair and bites his earlobe, then sucks it. "I need a chair or stepladder. Captain, can you find us a stepladder?" Loki looks at the Captain; so does Stark. The Captain is, indeed, watching them closely, a serious frown on his face. 

"Jarvis, get on that," Stark says. 

"Yes, sir," the ghost says. A ladder with three steps and a handrail at the top rolls over. "Will this do?" 

"I wish I'd had a house ghost when the children were in diapers," Loki says. He breaks from Stark reluctantly and climbs the ladder. "Yes, this will do. Roll me closer, please." 

The ghost propels him forward. Loki leans back on the handrail, letting his unbound hair tumble across his naked back. He feels regal for the first time in years. 

Stark strokes Loki's hips with his gloved hands. "Summoning my cock mastery out of cold storage," he says. 

"The only thing you must do is swallow. All else is optional." 

"But the better the sex is, the more magical powers I get?" 

"Precisely," Loki says. 

"Better be good, then." Stark squeezes Loki's ass and leans forward to lick his cock. 

He's not unpracticed. After years in a solitary cell, it's ecstasy. Loki can feel the fires stoking beneath his skin. The shackles hold them in so the only option is to smoulder in his balls and wait for release.

Loki caresses Stark's hair. A hand lands on the rail beside him; it is the Captain, his face stern but flushed. There is a definite bulge in his pants. Loki grins at him and fondles his breast. 

Stark slaps the Captain's ass, making him jump, and renews his attention to Loki's cock with a loud slurp. "Give me your hand," Loki says. He places Stark's glove between his legs. 

"Hm? Hey, you have the full set," Stark says, pulling off to peer under his balls. 

"Where did you think the babies came from?" Loki catches his breath as Stark slides a thick finger into his vagina. It's pleasantly rough, but he's going to be sore if they do this long. 

Which is fine, he thinks. He's going back to jail after this. He tosses his head back and moans at the ceiling. He lets his hips roll into Stark's mouth, which mm, is bristly from the beard but hot and wet and willing, just a slight pressure of a teeth from the top and an agile massage of tongue from the bottom. Delightful. "Swallow," he says, and he leans on the railing and comes. 

Stark holds his hips with his one hand. The other hand is still inside Loki, pressing into the pulsing walls of his vagina. Not as good as Parva, but who is? Loki exhales. 

"Okay," Stark says. 

"Give it a minute," Loki says. His cock is still hard. A part-female body means he has multiple orgasms if he so chooses. He doesn't know why he ever was male. How dull.

"Off," Stark says, and the armor obeys. It falls away to pile itself at his feet obediently. "Hey! Nice!" He shakes the Iron Man armor free, now that the Asgardian armor is not obstructing it, and stands at the foot of the ladder naked and aroused. 

"Stark," Loki says. 

"I'm a little surprised you weren't punking me start to finish," Stark says. "Yeah?" 

"Let us strengthen the working." Loki turns and bends over the railing. 

Stark climbs the ladder and slides in his cock with two mighty steps. His bare hands fly to Loki's tits like birds to a nest. "Hell yes," Stark says into Loki's back.

"I'm...charging the seiðr-stjórnir," Loki gasps. Stark has an excellent penis and better technique; he's already driving Loki to a second orgasm. 

"Liar," Stark says. He pinches Loki's nipples so Loki cries out. 

"I'm buttering you up so I may fuck you in the ass," Loki says. 

"'Kay," Stark says, and reaches down to stroke Loki's cock. 

And there is the Captain's hand still on the railing. His face is very red. Loki catches his eye and smiles at him. "Would you care to partake?" he asks. 

The Captain shakes his head. How boring to have such qualms. Loki tosses his head and drives himself back on Stark's cock until Stark seizes his hips and spills.

"Come on, before I fall down," Stark says. He staggers down the ladder and collapses onto a couch. "Come on, come on, let's do this thing!" He opens his legs wide. 

The shining heart of the Iron Man armor penetrates all the way into his chest. No wonder the sceptre didn't work on him. He has a machine heart. 

The Captain watches as Loki descends from the ladder and bites Stark's nipple. Stark hands him lubricant. Loki applies it thoroughly to Stark's ass, enjoying the way Stark shivers and wriggles against his touch. 

*

A week later, Loki makes a phone call. "Stark," he says. 

"My favorite villain! Good to see you're still in jail."

"I'm pregnant," Loki says. 

Silence from the other end. 

"You do not need to acknowledge the child. I can easily say it is Parva's. But it will be a remarkable baby, so I suggest you give it your name," Loki says. 

"Um," Stark says. 

"Of course he will acknowledge the child! This is a glorious day!" Thor cries. 

The Captain speaks as well. "Tony answered his phone in the middle of an Avengers meeting. This is why we have manners, Tony, so you don't get important news in front of your coworkers and your boss." 

"Holy shit," Stark says. Loki begins to laughs. 

"And there's the Bond villain laughter," Banner says. 

"I'm going to have a magical space alien baby," Stark says. 

"Mazel tov," Fury says. Loki still laughs, leaning against the prison wall.

"Tony Stark Junior: This time, he sets shit on fire with his mind. I am on this, I am so on this, are you kidding me?" Stark says. 

"Bozhe moi," Romanov murmurs.


	13. Chapter 13

*

She is blue.

None of his other children have been blue; they all took after their fathers. What does it mean that this child of his imprisonment must be his hated reflection?

"Here, honey, let me take her," the nurse says. Loki looks at her. His eyes are blurry. He surrenders the baby without protest. "She looks like her daddy, huh?"

"No," Loki says. "Like me." He lets the mask drop and he sits Jotun, monstrous, chained to the bed. He leans forward and stares at his clawed hands.

"I see."

Loki changes back before the bedding freezes. Drops of something dot the blanket.

Tears. He touches his face. "Don't let anyone in," he says.

"I'm sorry, honey, you're a convict."

"Damn it." He is a prince, he is used to exposure, he can rule himself, but his child is BLUE--

He raises both hands to his eyes and presses, trying to hold back the tears, but they force their way past the snarl and run down his arms beneath the curtain of his hair.

"You made some wrong turnings in your life, but that doesn't mean your daughter has to," the nurse says. "A new life is always a new opportunity."

Loki flings his hands down in his lap. "And what would you know about it? You are human! You--" She is brown-skinned, Loki realizes, and Parva taught him a great deal about what that means. The anger collapses as quickly as it rose. "Forgive me."

"I'll forgive a lot from a woman just pushed a baby out of her," the nurse says.

"What is your name?"

"Latisha. You?"

"Loki. Give her to me, please, I am calm." He wipes his face clean with his hospital sleeve and receives the baby again. "Are you hungry, little bluebird?"

The baby wriggles. Probably she is. Birth is tiring work. Loki lets down the front of his hospital gown.

"Not your first?" Latisha asks.

He pokes his nipple against the baby's mouth and helps her figure out what to do with it. "My eighth. But this one...she will be rich. She will have everything she wants. Her father has more money than you can imagine. She is a princess."

"Who's the daddy, Tony Stark?" Latisha asks, smiling.

"Yes." Loki grins at her. "Yes. He will come as soon as the doctors let him."

"No!"

"A little Stark in your arms. Sell your story to the tabloids and make a mint."

"I better check my hair," Latisha says.

The baby finds a good latch and sucks vigorously. Loki strokes her cheek. "If only she weren't blue," Loki murmurs. "My other children have brown skin like their fathers. Why didn't she follow their example?" 

"We're the color God made us."

"Gods are fickle and frequently cruel," Loki says, and Latisha makes a low noise in her throat. She doesn't like that. "Her father won't mind her color. He likely won't even notice. His father was cold and detached, but Tony is interested in everything. He will love her. I am in prison, so my feelings can't hurt her. She will be a true princess. A true heir. I was never a true heir, always a cuckoo, always the outsider, never wanted, but you, little queen, will rule the world, will you not?" His voice is very soft by the end, encompassing only his daughter.

She has her father's dark eyes, not Jotun red. Her cheeks are smooth, unlike Jotun ridges. Her face is round; she will have large eyes like her father, he thinks, and good cheekbones like both parents, and thick black hair. She may be a beauty. She should be tall like her brothers. She weighs ten pounds six ounces, enormous for a human child.

"Loki? Looking for--" The door swings open. "Loki! Holy shit." Stark freezes in the doorway.

"Your daughter," Loki says. He pulls the baby from his breast and hands her to Latisha. The baby mouths the air then squalls from deprivation.

"Ohmigod," Stark says. He stumbles into the room. Thor is behind him, and Romanov.

"Head in your hand. Hold her like this," Latisha says. "She's a great big girl, but she's brand new, can't hold herself up."

"We made a kid," Stark says. He sits on the end of Loki's bed.

"Sister! What is her name?" Thor stands over Stark, beaming.

"Stark may name her."

"Maria," Stark says. He blinks and looks back at Loki. "My mom. And she's Virgin Mary blue, what do you call that color? Steve, what is that color?"

"Ultramarine," the Captain says. Latisha retreats back beside Loki's bed as the Avengers crowd into the room, even Banner. Barton has a camera and takes frequent pictures. 

"Maria Stark. Mom would flip. Middle name?" Stark asks Loki.

Loki shrugs. "We have only one name and gain kennings with our deeds. She is Maria Lokadottir and that's enough for me."

"Maria Anthonadottir," Thor says.

Loki snorts. "Lokadottir," he says. "Call her Lekny or Lopthaena if you want to name her after me."

"Maria Lekny Stark," Stark says.

"Doesn't ring," the Captain says.

"Maria Lekny Lokadottir Stark does," Romanov says. "And Lekny means tricky, more or less, and she's the product of you two."

The baby shrieks. Stark reacts as if electrocuted. "What did I do? What happened?" He looks around desperately.

"She's still hungry. That's a demanding cry." Loki holds up his hands. "They only have five cries when they're so young. Hungry, tired, messy diaper, I want Mommy, and something hurts."

"Comes back quick, doesn't it?" Latisha says. She helps Loki settle the baby at her other breast. Barton takes a picture. 

"Okay. I have this handled. Nursery set up. Top of the line shit. Newborn clothes out the butt--"

"She's too big for newborn clothes, Mr Stark," Latisha says.

"--that is a contradiction in terms, how can a newborn not fit in newborn clothes?"

"She's ten pounds six ounces," Loki says proudly. "Straight to three month old."

Banner whistles. "That's a lot of baby. That's the SUV of babies." 

"The twins were nine pounds each, but of course the four arms complicated things. Still," Loki says. "Good practice." 

"Okay. Okay. I hired a nanny, but--how many kids have you had?" Stark asks. 

"Me?" Latisha asks. 

"You. You look like you know what you're doing." 

"Three babies and eight grandbabies and I've been working the maternity ward for twelve years," Latisha says. "Damn straight I know what I'm doing." 

"I will double your salary if you come home with me tonight."

"I am a Christian woman, Mr. Stark," Latisha says coldly. Loki laughs aloud. Romanov catches his eye and grins. 

"I need a mom, my mom is dead, I need a mom to tell me what to do. Shit. I have a baby," Stark says, and he faints. The Captain catches him. 

"Take the money," Loki advises Latisha. "I trust you too." 

"He hired two nannies," Romanov says. 

"But not a mother. I craved the advice of my mother with my first. It's easier with the eighth." 

Barton snaps a picture of Stark swooning in the Captain's arms. The Captain pats his cheek and Stark's eyes flutter open again. 

"Can I have some water, please?" Loki asks. 

"Sure, honey. Move," she says to Barton. 

Loki does not drink the water, though. He dips his fingers and drips it on the baby's head. "Your name is Maria Lekny Lokadottir Stark and I am your mother," he says. "You are Princess of Asgard, Princess of Jotunheim, and Stark of Earth. Remember me in high places." He kisses her forehead. "Your daughter. Don't drop her." He hands her to Stark. 

"Not on my life," Stark says. He grins at Maria. 

*


End file.
